Transformers: The Eye of Icarus
by Unigu Mika
Summary: Post 'Dark of the Moon'/2007 movie. The French poet Jean de la Fontaine once said: "A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it." There are new friends, foes, and of course the same world to try and save. R & R
1. Info

**_"Battle not with monsters lest ye become a monster; and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes into you." _**

**_- Friedrich Nietzsche_**

_A Bit About This FanFic:_

Okay, so this is my first one with Transformers. This is based on the movieverse from 2007. I mean, I have watched the some of the Transformers shows I grew up with and I have also been reading up on TransformersWiki. Don't be afraid to tell me something I might have messed up on! I would appreciate comments and reviews please. The beginning is a bit slow, but I think it speeds up once you reach there. Wish me luck and follow me with this epic... story/narration thing!


	2. Prologue: Three Years Ago

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Prologue: Three Years Ago

-...

**The French poet Jean de la Fontaine once said: "A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it."**

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><p>She opened her left eye, tears running down her face as the last of the black smoke cleared from the air around her. She spat what amount of spittle she had left, trying to get the pieces of asphalt and metal out from her mouth.<p>

The city was silent now. From her awkward position, she could just barely glance onto the empty street. Papers fluttered past by swirls of wind down West Madison. Clumsily, almost painfully she moved her good leg to try and relieve the pain. Her attempt to get a better view of the street was to no avail. Once more, she listened.

No screams.

No gunshots.

It really was silent.

She could not hear speech. Nor could she hear the sounds of craft overhead. Her only good eye looked up to her small car shelter. It has pinned her down into the dented roof of a charred taxicab. She could not tell what was car was above her, nor the car that had her left leg pinned.

She closed her eyes and tried to see how she felt. Her fingers and toes were cold. She weakly flexed her fingers trying to get some circulation back in them. Her body was battered, burned, bruised. Clothing torn and muscle shredded to bits. Swallowing, she tried to moisten her burned throat. "Mom."

Nothing. The flurry of pigeon wings from the street. How were they back so fast?

"Mom-?"

She tried to look over where she could feel the arm of her mother by her right side, but the piece of metal that pinned her down was blocking her view.

"Mom, get up." She patted the ground until she felt her mother's hand. She squeezed it as best as she could. It was cold, just like her own "Mom, please-"

She stopped, and her fingers desperately tried to find something. With her hand shaking, she could feel the comforting pulse against her mother's skin, weak but constant. She breathed a small sigh of relief.

She turned her attention to the opposite end of the shelter- back to the street. Dumbly, her left hand felt for the thick red cord around her neck and followed it to the end. Picking up a small whistle, she guided it between her lips.

A rape whistle of all things. It was a gag present that her friend had bought her when he had been short on money during her birthday. He always joked how it could be heard from over a kilometer away. Perhaps he was right. This could just save her life.

"Tweeeeeeeeet!"

She immediately felt defeated by the amount of air she had to exert just to sound it, but she had to keep going.

"Tweeet!'

She panted, trying to suck in air through her nose as best as she could.

"Tweeeeeeeeet!"

Oh God, her head was spinning...

She let her hand drop and she tried to relax, trying to catch her breath but kept the whistle between her teeth. How much easier running had been only minutes ago! It was hell to have to breath like this. But she had to do it. If an international distress call of three wouldn't work, then she knew that she would die. Of what, she couldn't really remember, her mind was fuzzy now. Inhaling, trying to stem the want to cough, she sounded the whistle again.

"Tweeeeeeeeet!"

It was worse this time; she was still spinning as she tried to breathe deeply. But she had to try and stay strong...

"Tweeeeeeeeet!"

Black spots. Purple spots. What was happening?

"Tweeeee-"

Oh God. She was hearing voices now. It must be bad. "Call out? Where are you?" The voice demanded from her.

"I'm right here, can't you see me? I'm here, under my roof." A shadow fell over her entrance.

"Is it just you?" The man asked, she could tell it from his voice.

"No, my mom is with me."

"We're going to get you out, all right?" He tried to reassure her.

"Is this a dream? What happened?"

"It's fine, we can get you out of here." The man grabbed her hand.

"Let go of my hand, that hurts."

"I know, I know. What's your name?"

"Gloria. Gloria Sullivan."

"Hi Gloria, I'm Lennox."

"Hi."

"Is that your mom?"

"Yeah. Her name is Stefanie. But call her Mrs. Sullivan."

"Where's your dad?" He asked.

"We lost him when they came. But you know what?"

"What?"

"He's brave. I know he survived."

"Hey Glora?"

"Yes sir?"

"You're pretty brave too."

"Thanks... I guess. I don't think so though."

"Really?"

"I cried when we were first in here. When they were still around. But then they disappeared."

"I saw them disappear too."

"I cried even when they were gone though. I was scared. I thought we were going to be vaporized like everyone else we were with."

There was silence between them.

"..Sir?" She asked.

"Yes?"

"What's that noise?"

"They're my friends."

"How'd they get cars in here? I thought they were all blown up."

"Let's just say that they're special, okay?"

"Okay."

She looked ahead, resting her strained eye. She could only see with the corner of her eye, but he was still rubbing her arm, getting the cold out from her skin. She didn't mind, it helped to keep her warm, albeit it was a very rough and forceful. She couldn't doze off like she wanted to. With her right hand, she felt the weak beating of her mother's heart through her dirty, sticky skin. She took that into heart that maybe they were going to be okay. The cars had stopped. She hoped that maybe one of them was a medic. Or strong enough to pull her out from her shelter with her mom.

"Hey Gloria, is it all right if I go talk to my friends?" Lennox asked.

"Sure. Can they help us?"

"Yeah, I think so."

He squeezed her hand once more and left her side. She heard him walk away, but a new set of steps approached.

"So you're Gloria?" The new man asked.

"Yeah."

She turned her head and eye as best as she could to the new voice. This time she could make out a uniform. And a gun.

"Are you from the army?"

"Close, but I'm a little bit more specialized. Can I see you hand?"

"Yeah..."

He pulled out a blood pressure gauge and quickly wrapped it around her arm and inflated it. It hurt, but she said nothing. She tried to read his expression, but nothing stood out.

"I'll be right back, all right?"

"But what about my mom? You didn't check her."

He frowned and crouched down and peeked over her to see her mother.

"I'll see what I can get for her."

"...Thanks."

"No problem."

He heard his footsteps walk away and she was alone. Painfully, she moved her free leg to a more comfortable angle once more. She looked forward at the charred, unmarked car before her.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The hairs one her head stood straight up. She couldn't breath. Was that-?

Thud. Thud. Thud.

It was close. So much closer. She felt blood running down her neck. From her bitten lip. She couldn't mistake it.

The mechanical whirr of joints moving. The earth shaking beneath her battered body. She was terrified.

She screamed.

She screamed until she no longer had air in her lungs to scream. She screamed even as the tears welled into her eyes. She screamed even when the man called Lennox tried to talk sense into her.

The enemy is gone, he tried to assure her. There's no threat.

She screamed until she could only afford to breathe between sobbing.

She cried.

She cried when the man with the blood pressure gauge came with something to calm her down. She cried even as they covered her eyes and held her down to successfully dislodge her and cut a piece of metal still stuck into her to get her out. She cried as something smeared blue and red and yellow moved the smeared black car through her tears.

She dosed.

She dosed when she heard them shouting how they got her mother free. Her lids were heavy as they began an IV for the both of them and they were back boarded with makeshift pieces of metal and wood. Only when she heard the Blackhawk's did she finally sleep.

She slept.

She slept as she was carried to the chopper, labeled as a critical victim. She slept as the man told the co-pilot how they had found her, pinned under a pile of cars that shouldn't have stayed up. Shouldn't have survived the Decepticon attack. Should've been pierced through her skull by the metal pole that was in her eye. Should've been crushed by the cars overhead.

But survived.

Through hell and back, these civilians survived.

How they made it, God only knows.

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><p>Oh boy. How was it? I'm kind of racing the clock to go somewhere, but I wanted to get this published so it will motivate me to keep working on the rest of the story. Don't be afraid to comment and rate!<p> 


	3. Prologue: Nine Months After the Incident

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Prologue: Nine Months After the Incident

-...

**I myself had never thought of destiny before, or even fate for that matter.**

* * *

><p>Hawaii was a beautiful place, and even better to enjoy after being kept inside a hospital for so long.<p>

Gloria stood at the foot of the ocean, her feet just close enough to the sand to allow the strongest waves to splash onto her feet. The blue, warm waters glittered with the bright sun overhead. But only half of her would enjoy the wonder and beauty. Still with a patch over her right eye, she was expecting to head to her first ocularist within the week they headed back to D.C. She looked down at her toes and walked until the water was up to her knees, noting the scars from surgery to set her tibia and fibula back in place. She then turned to face the beach. She saw her mom lying down on her chair with her crutches right beside her. Her father showed the cuts and scraps that were still healing.

They all had burns though, and that is what tied them together.

She turned to her left and began walking in the waves. She couldn't walk straight with the waves pulling and pushing her along. She was going diagonal at times, but she kept her pace. The physical therapist that it might get the strength back into her left leg with the pulling and pushing of the waves.

But, her eye was no longer staring ahead.

She watched the clear shore bottom for shells. She liked shells. It reminded her of something that she could keep and look at the beauty of the ocean. Self-conscious of the sun on her cheek, she adjusted her new wraparound sunglasses, worried about her only good eye and the doctor's warning to keep the other safe. The other was long gone, removed when they operated to remove the sidebar of the car that had toppled on top of her and her mother. Fortunate it didn't pierce through her skull.

She stopped and looked a bit farther out.

Something under the waves caught her attention. Worried it would wash out; she sloshed noisily to the area and plunged her hands in, eye wincing as the water splashed up at her face. She snatched it up, feeling the cool metal against her fingers. Standing up, hand clutched, she looked down and opened her hand.

Though not perfectly round, like and oval, it was unblemished. Brilliantly white. Being wet, the nearly perfect sphere reflected the sun on its slick exterior. It was smooth to her hands and fingers as she rolled it around curiously. On the other side, she found a perfect black circle, like a button, decorated the outside. Strangest of all, it was incredibly cool in her hands despite the warm waters. She closed her hand around it, and turned to the left to head back to her parents. She flipped her messy ponytail of red hair to go over her shoulder, giving her left eye a reprieve from the sun. Hand held tight against her chest, she sloshed though the water to where her parents were in the sand. She came out of the water and ran across the hot sand. She dropped it onto the towel as she sat down, showing it to her parents as they ate lunch. She was proud of her find and would keep it for her collection at home in D.C.

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><p>-end prologue-<p>

You know that awkward moment when you submit a chapter and don't check it, only to find major punctuation and things missing via comments you receive? Whoops. I guess was angry at me for not posting things for a long time. It took out a TON of quotation marks from the previous prologue/chapter thing. I really should have double-checked everything before submitting. Thanks Anon for bringing that to light! You are my HERO :D This update is for you and FOREVAAAAARR!

And this is the end of the prologue section. The first "real" chapter of the fanfic will be coming next. I want to post it now, but I need to be patient.


	4. Hold Your Breath

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Chapter One: Hold Your Breath

-…

**I find it hard to believe that anyone would be willing to accept his life as unchangeable.**

* * *

><p><em>WASHINGTON D.C. AREA, PRESENT DAY<em>

"Honey? You need to get up. Your appointment is at 9:30. Did you forget?"

"Mom, it's at 10:30. I wrote it down two weeks ago. It's in my book."

_God woman. You think I'm dumb? I can handle myself, believe or not, even when I'm not in class. _She angrily thought to herself, rolling over in bed.

"Well, I changed it two days ago. It's at 9:30. I thought I told you that."

"Well, what time is it now?"

"9:10."

"Jesus!" She pulled back the covers and stood out of bed, flying to the closet of scattered clothes. She heard her mom close the door and head down the stairs to her own room as she quickly hopped over to the window in her room to read the temperature. Why couldn't her mom wake her up earlier so she had some time to prepare! The place was 15 minutes away! She glanced outside to the red needle. Cold, but warm enough to go without a jacket today.

Seriously, it wasn't cool to surprise her like that, especially with getting somewhere on time. It was a cardinal sin in her book to be late to an appointment (though both her parents were a lot more lax with that idea)! She ran back and put on a hopefully clean pair of jeans and a sweater and tossed her pajamas onto her unkempt bed. She flung the door open and stomped into the bathroom. Grabbing a towel, she washed her face with one hand and tried in a failed attempt to brush her bed head down. She sighed and stopped herself, flipping materials in her hands. With her stronger hand in control of the brush now, she successfully completed the basic functions of her bathroom routine. Done, she looked at herself in the mirror.

Appearance today? Eh.

She looked at her fake eye closely, which dutifully stared back. Oh boy, when did she last wash it? She hoped she had remembered to clean it last week; otherwise she was going to be killed by her ocularist. Oh well, she didn't have time to worry about that now, she had to move. Brushing hair and teeth done, she flew to her room, grabbed her keys and her purse, but stopped briefly to crouch down and stick her hand into a small bag by the dresser of her bed and pulled out her favorite white marble with the black dot. She looked down at it in her hand and sat on her bed. It was still just as cool as it had been the day she had found it on the beach so long ago. She rolled it to have the black button face her. She looked outside, wishing that it wasn't November already. She hated winter. Tenderly, she stroked it around the outside of the black circle like so many times before.

But something strange happened,

Outside of the black, it was glowing blue. Before she could drop it, it transformed. Small, insectoid legs emerged from the sides and gripped onto her hand. She sat up and flailed her hand. It didn't let do. She felt it dig into her skin. It was moving up her arm. She grabbed her purse.

"Oh no you don't!" She proclaimed, and swung in onto her hand. It leapt to her shoulder before she could hit it.

Owwwwwwwwwww.

She shook her head and attacked herself with her hands to get rid off. The thing climbed her hair and was on her forehead. Finally shouting, she smacked her head and fell into her closet. Grabbing for anything, she pulled down her clothesline and crashed into her head, knocking her out.

The thing hadn't been hit. With the struggle in its favor, the thing seemed to give out a small screech of delight. It could work in peace now on the human.

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><p>Yay! The first real chapter! Though I didn't realize just how short the chapter was until I uploaded this. It's okay! THe next few chapters will be ready shortly!<p>

I wish I could draw robotic things though. But that doesn't really matter, does it?

Rate and review! I love comments!


	5. Eye See Two

So on the midnight premiere of HP 7.5, my friends and eye were hanging out and I nearly poked out my friend's right eye. I first panicked and apologized profusely, but then I got excited when I realized that Gloria, the main human character of this story, doesn't have a right eye either. I think we got excited over it, I can't remember too much of what happened before the movie. AND I WAS CRYING THE REST OF THE FILM.

-…

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Chapter Two: Eye(s) See(ing) Two

-…

**Yet, with what I have been through, I think there might be something to this 'inescapable' fate.**

* * *

><p>Gloria opened her eyes and groaned, head spinning. She dragged herself from her now demolished closet and clamored to her bed to pull herself up. Remembering what had just happened, she grabbed a poster container in case the thing would try and attack her again. Her room had been torn apart by the creature after she had passed out and she scanned the room to try and see it. I don't see anything… maybe it ran out of my room? She wondered, kicking some of her books at her feet. She clutched her forehead, pain throbbing across her face and felt something warm on her palm. She looked down and saw blood. "Oh no." She mumbled, dropping the container on the floor and stumbled to the bathroom while holding her forehead.<p>

Something was wrong and she could feel it.

She closed the bathroom door behind her and locked it, approaching the mirror to see what she looked like.

Well, there was blood all over her face, but she just had to wash her face. Easy.

Er, her hand and arm were pretty cut up from the thing latching onto her and climbing to her face. And she had a welt on her forehead from the pole. She groaned. "Well this is going to be great to explain to my parents."

She turned the faucet and ran the washcloth under it and applied some soap and rubbed her face. Since Chicago, the media had begun to issue warnings about creatures like that. They would have to call the police at least. She just didn't expect it to be so aggressive for something that small. Not to mention sharp. She just hoped she didn't get tetanus from it.

Clear of blood, she frowned as she looked at her right eye. Still closed, she gently prodded the skin. It looked... swollen. Not swollen, maybe more filled out? Her prosthetic eye could never quite replace a real eye since it could never be successful filled out since the muscles had atrophied, but hardly anyone could see the difference. She furrowed her eyebrows, further prodding the area. Maybe it was loose? No, it hadn't done anything like that since her time having it. She opened her eye to examine more closely.

She looked like a Terminator.

She screamed and jumped back, falling into the bathtub and hitting her head on the wall. She heard the thud of feet from down the stairs and her mother shouting. Quickly, she turned on the shower. No sooner had that happened she heard a knock on the bathroom door. "Honey, what's wrong!" Her mother asked.

Pulling a towel over her shoulders and closed her eye, heart in her throat, Gloria approached and opened the door and peeked a look at her mom.

"Yeah," she said dazed, "the water turned really cold for a second. I'm fine."

Her mom raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "Alright. At least you're okay. How was Dr. Steven?"

She froze. How much time had passed?

"Uh, he was fine, and that everything looks A-okay."

"Did he have the cleaning solution we ordered?"

"Well," her mind was racing, "it came in, but it wasn't the right kind. He said next week."

"I thought he would know to order you what we usually get. I can't believe it-"

"Mom, can I finish my shower? I'm getting cold. Please?" She begged, looking at her.

"..Alright, but you need to finish this conversation downstairs with me. Before I leave." Gloria watched her walk down the hall downstairs to her master bathroom. She closed the door and leaned against it, breathing a sigh of relief. She rubbed her wet hair, but she realized she needed to take a shower to placate her mom. Standing, she threw down the towel on the toilet, but dared a peek with her Terminator eye. Opening it, it glowed blue back at her. Suddenly, a red laser scanned the mirror, almost startling her back into the bathtub.

In a soft whir, she was looking at a perfect replica of her own normal eye color-wise. She cocked her head and approached the mirror to examine it closely. She was afraid to touch it, the whirring and clicking loud in her head. What was it do-

She swore the whole world tilted right before her. Her death-grip on the counter was the only thing keeping her upright and the moment.

She could see.

The clicking had stopped in her head. She was unsure what to do.

She turned her head to the left, both eyes turning smoothly.

She turned to the right and the same thing happened.

Down looking up? Yep.

Up looking down? Check.

Rotating her head, they still stayed focused on her. Her right eye didn't snag the certain ways that her prosthetic did.

Curious, she leaned to the mirror and touched the white part. It was still cool to the touch. Finally, she gawked.

"How did-?" She wondered. "I never thought- but they told me that the nerve- no, no! This isn't real, is it?"

She pinched herself, and it hurt.

She looked around the bathroom, amazed. Three years, and suddenly she could see with her right eye! Close the left. Close the right. The world stayed there before her! She blinked, remarking how she could notice close about with a bit more depth than before. This was so weird. A life prepared to see everything one way turned on its head. How could this be? Magic. That had to be it! Black magic, or Harry Potter...

"I'm already dressed, how are you still in the shower?" She mother inquired, knocking on the door

Party shut down. She slipped out of her clothes and hopped in. "Gloria? Did you-"

"Sorry mom, I used conditioner instead of soap." She nervously replied. _Please let it work, please let it work, please let it work. _She silently prayed, crossing her fingers.

"Alright. Hurry up."

"Sorry mom, here I am." She walked down stairs a few minutes later, hair being combed forward so she wouldn't see the welt on her head. She wore a long-sleeve shirt to hide her arm and hand and jeans.

"That's fine. I just wanted to let you know I'm leaving now to go get a CT scan. Just a checkup." Her mother explained, grabbing her lunch from the fridge.

"'Kay." Gloria kept her distance from her mom.

"Will you look at me? I want to see your face, not your hair."

"Fine." She roughed her hair up let herself be seen but not her forehead. She walked into the kitchen area where her mom was collecting the last of her things. "Bye hun, see you tonight." Her mom kissed her on the cheek. She returned the kiss and habitually brushed the hair away from her right eye. They both stopped.

"Did Dr. Steven do anything today with your eye?" Her mom was like a hawk: nothing could escape her sight. Nothing.

"Uh, he just took out my eye to look at it to see if it looked alright. Then he looked to see if anything looked wrong inside. That's it. It might have swollen my eyelid a bit." Gloria lied.

"I was gonna say, but you just need to be more careful with that socket of yours."

"Yeah. I will, I kind of rushed it since you were leaving earlier than usual today."

"Thanks for thinking of me, Gloria. See you tonight. And make sure your father eats a proper meal before he leaves for Kyoto! Okay?" She walked through the mudroom and opened the door, but paused to receive an answer. She frowned and looked at her daughter, seeing her spacing out. "Did you get that Gloria?" Her daughter was staring straight at her, silent.

Her right eye had circled her mom and began scrawling symbols. There were so many flooding her vision that it momentarily blocked her vision. Immediately it focused back on her mother, a small red circle appearing around her right shoulder. She shook her head. The eye whirred loudly and the symbols and the focus disappeared. "What? Oh, yeah. I can make something." She replied, tugging on her sleeve. Her mother smiled and left the house, closing the door behind her.

Gloria flew up the stairs and went into the bathroom, shaken. "What was that?" She asked out loud, watching herself in the mirror. Just what did her eye do, and what was it supposed to mean?

Her mother had just left the house and she knew from experience that she never answered the phone when on the road. Her father was in a meeting right now, so he wouldn't be home for several more hours. She had no other option besides just waiting for them to get home to tell them about the eye.

_If I have to wait for them to get home, I might as well clean my room._ She concluded, leaning on the counter and looking at her new eye. The eye whirred loudly within her head, doing God-knows-what.

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><p>Yay! Another chapter up! And I want to give a shout-out to everyone who has been reading the story: you guys help me continue with writing this! But <strong>PLEASE<strong> comment! That is my raw fuel and I can see what you guys think of my story! Until next time!

-Mika


	6. A Life on Hold

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Chapter Three: A Life on Hold

-...

**It seemed like, no matter which path I have tried to take, this 'destiny' of mine kept coming after me.**

* * *

><p>Gloria had her work cut out for her. First was to clean her room and set everything back together and toss out anything that had been shredded like some posters and books. She had to try and salvage the clothes that had been covered in blood from the incident and threw them in the wash, hoping for the best. She worked on putting up the clothes pole back up before she could hang up everything that was on the ground and put them in their place.<p>

From what she could figure, she had been out cold for about 45 minutes. Was it from the welt or maybe from the robotic eye? She couldn't decide. At least she was fine, she thought. No way to tell without medical professionals, but she felt fine. Not to mention she was still euphoric from her new eye that allowed her to see now. She had no idea how it had worked, but she wouldn't mind if she could keep it. Of course, she wasn't going to throw out her prosthetic eye anytime soon: that was stupid. Finding her prosthetic under the pile of clothes, she carefully washed it and put it away in its container and shoved it in her purse.

It was 3:25 in the afternoon when she got a call.

"Hello?" Gloria asked, throwing the remaining clothes from her closet on the bed to hang up.

"Honey, it's Aunt Katherine. " Her aunt's voice was on the verge of hysteria.

"What's wrong?" Gloria's stomach dropped. _Please don't let it be what I'm thinking_, she begged God, _not on my vacation_.

"It's a clot. You need to get to the hospital. It's in her shoulder this time. The doctor is here, I need to go."

"I'll be there in a bit." Gloria hung up and swore, grabbing her purse. Her room would have to wait.

She almost forgot her shoes as she ran downstairs to her car. Hands shaking, she turned the ignition on and headed straight to the highway. This wasn't good. Her mother had been in and out of the hospital ever since... well, Chicago. Various things. Complications. Shattered pelvis. Pain. Blood clots. Mostly blood clots. She had been on blood thinners to keep her healthy. She looked at her white knuckles on the steering wheel. She felt panicked as she saw the hospital and pulled into the parking garage. She was starting to space out, worried for her mother.

She didn't remember much of how she got to the room as her thoughts spiraled. She seemed to wake up when she entered and saw her mother in the hospital bed and her dad by her bedside. Both looked over when she dropped her purse on the ground and walked over. She mother gave her a small smile. "Hey hun." She weakly greeted, hiked on medications.

"You haven't been taking your blood thinners, have you?" Gloria demanded, hands on hips, refusing to touch her mother. Her mother looked down.

"You know, my sister and your brother asked the same thing."

"Yes or no?" Gloria narrowed her eyes, lips a thin line.

"..no, I guess not." Her mother conceded, defeated.

Gloria sighed and sat down in one of the pulled up chairs. Her mother was horrible with taking medication, and she had an even deeper dislike of her blood thinners. Of course, if she didn't take them, this happened.

"I'm going to cancel my flight, I'm not going to leave with you like this." Her father declared, standing and pulling out his phone. "Jonathen..." her mother called, but ignored her as he walked to the door.

"Not so fast, mister." Her mother's sister, Aunt Katherine, stormed in and snatched the phone from him. Gloria's brother, Gabriel, walked in with food from the cafeteria and put it down on a chair. "What are you trying to do?" Her father demanded, and aunt Katherine acted hurt.

"I sir, am assuring you that you need to worry about going to Japan for that final business deal of yours. Something like a blood clot in the shoulder isn't that serious."

"But she's my wife-"

"And I'm her sister." She put a hand on his shoulder in sympathy, lowering her voice. "Look, we both care, and I know you heard what the doctor said. The only reason why they didn't discharge her is because of her previous history. A blood clot in her right shoulder isn't taken lightly, but it's managed easier than any what we've had to deal with before, John. You and I both know that you NEED this business deal to pull through for your company. Don't worry about Stef', okay? The hospital knows how to treat her from previous cases." She raised her voice so everyone could hear. "Your kids and I'll be looking after her, too. Right Gloria, Gabe?"

"You know it." Gabe interjected, giving their dad one of his classic crooked grins.

"Why wouldn't we?" Gloria chimed in. It seemed to placate her father a bit. "I'm going to stay until my flight." He finally decided, retrieving his phone and sitting back down beside his wife. Everyone seemed a bit calmer now that they had settled that dispute. Gabe was quick to give his baby sister a bear hug.

"How's my widdle sissy?" He cooed, rubbing her hair, but careful of her right eye.

"I'd be fine if you let me go so I could breathe." She retorted, but hugged him back.

"You know I would never do anything to harm you like that!" He looked down at her.

"How do explain what happened in Halloween in third grade?"

"Really, you still are holding that against me? You never let things go, do you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just the things that give me stitches. But how's grad school?"

"Eh, research. Lots of it, but I think it's fun. Especially with my new internship I'm dealing with. They've already offered me a job when I finally graduate. How's the dirt digging going?" She lightly punched his arm.

"You know it's called geology. And it is going quite well. I already have a plan to try and get an internship over the summer with the USGS."

"Good for you."

"I remember," their aunt remarked, "when the only thing you guys did was fight when you were younger."

"We're both in college now. We've grown up." Gabe shrugged. Just then, the doctor walked in, ending the conversation.

...

It was decided that Mrs. Sullivan was to stay overnight at the hospital and watch the clot with plans on testing to see if there would be anymore in her. Precautions, the doctor assured them, just with her history. She would be able to leave in a day or two. Maybe three just on how the testing goes. Her father would leave tonight, and her brother needed to fly back to New York to go back to school. Gloria would have to stay with her aunt until her mother was able to get out of the hospital despite the protests from her end. They would visit her tomorrow and keep her company. Her brother and father had to leave early, but aunt Katherine and her finally left around eleven. They first drove to Gloria's house to pick up some things to spend the night over at her aunt's (though she didn't understand why her parents just leave her in the house alone for so long, it wasn't like she was a delinquent or something) and left her car at home. She got into her aunt's car and drove to her gated community home, pulling into the massive ten-car garage.

"This will be like a sleepover for us! I can't believe it!" Her aunt excitedly proclaimed as she opened the door and let herself into the house. Gloria looked around and frowned, seeing the house empty.

"Where's uncle?"

"Oh, just business. He'll be gone for about four to six weeks. Europe, a bit of Asia." She floated to the guest room upstairs and unlocked it. "You know where the room is. I'll be downstairs in a minute." She called happily, closing the door to her own room. Gloria sighed and shifted the weight of her bag on her shoulder. She wished her uncle was here, not working in some foreign country. The few she ever asked her aunt what he did for a living, she artfully changed the subject or ignored her completely. Or saying she was going to cook. Her aunt only hinted that it might be something involving the former Soviet Union. And that was something that was cool. Kind of the hush-hush secrets that was in movies or television dramas you would see on the USA channel. Lugging her bags up the stairs, she pushed herself against the door and let herself into the guest room. Flicking the light on with her elbow, she threw her bags on the bed and threw herself on it as well.

She didn't want to unpack. She had just come home for the week off of school to be with her parents and visit family and friends. She didn't want this to happen to her. She didn't want to have to worry about her mother again. She didn't want to have to keep an eye on her with medications again. She just wanted to have a calm, normal lifestyle. She didn't know what to do, and she didn't want to watch any movies with her aunt, so she showered and went to bed.

That night, she began to dream about the comet.

* * *

><p>So I got up at six this morning without meaning to. Of course, I'm the person that when they wake up, they can't go back to sleep. So here I am, reading fanfiction and writing.<p>

THERE WILL BE ACTION NEXT CHAPTER I AM SO EXCITED!

Thank you for everyone who had been reading! Please R&R!


	7. Honeymoon Wrecker

_Shout out to Memmi for her review! You are so awesome! :D_

And I was looking at information about Autobots for later chapters and I came with the conclusion that Ratchet and I are total bros even though I am female. Everywhere I look I'm finding more information that solidifies our bro status. Srsly, it is really weird with what I'm finding. I want to give Ratchet a bro fist since we are TIGHT in my book. *coughiliediwanttohughimbuthe'sahugethingofmetalandi'monly5'10"whathack*

Watnewchapterwat

-…

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Chapter Four: Honeymoon Wrecker

-…

**The one time I was forced to leave behind my destiny, I nearly went insane as destiny's sick way of dragging me back to the right path.**

* * *

><p>She woke up with her aunt banging on the bedroom door. She was shouting something about getting ready, but Gloria did not want to deal with the real world right now. Pulling the covers tighter around her shoulders, she nestled herself into her pillow. She closed her eyes, trying to remember her dream. The details were blurring, but she tried to hold onto the main idea. The door opened, footsteps softly padding against the carpet.<p>

"Not so fast, missy. Up or the mattress will be in three seconds."

Her aunt was terrifyingly strong. She had flipped the bed on her before. Twice. She was really a determined person, but she kind of skipped past logic sometimes. The threat was enough to make her jump out of bed. "Fine! I'm up! Why am I up?" Gloria implored, tugging on a piece of hair that was sticking up against gravity.

"You're coming to work with me. You're going to see D.C. And I don't want to hear the excuse that you have already seen everything. You aren't going to waste the day at my house under my rules. And why are you staring at me like that? Are you confused at my demands?"

"No, I'm good. Just something in my eye." Gloria blinked a few times, her eye having whirred to life early this morning somehow eager to want to work so early. The symbols were back with a vengeance and weren't going away this time. She closed her right eye, tired of the stimulus. Aunt Kathy jabbed a finger at Gloria.

"Get ready. You got twenty minutes." She disappeared down the hall. _Why am I given no time to get ready these past two mornings?_ She wondered to the sky, but at least her eye calmed down for the moment with nothing to focus on. Quickly pulling out an outfit from her still packed bags, sure to wear long sleeves to cover up her arm. She went into the bathroom to clean up and to examine her forehead. It looked normal now, much to her relief. _At least I got one less thing to worry about._

She sighed to herself, tugging on her white camisole and plaid long-sleeved shirt. She had one less thing to worry about. She probably was going to need a jacket today.

"Come on Gloria, I don't want myself to be late!" She aunt shouted from downstairs.

"Hold on, I'm coming!" Gloria responded, pausing to grab her purse and jacket from her room and hopped down the stairs. She slipped into her shoes at the door and walked into the garage where her aunt was waiting inside the car. Her aunt quickly drove out of the driveway and was on her way to downtown D.C.

Gloria spent her time looking out the window, but she eventually had to close her new eye. It was pinpointing on everything that was in her vision and what entered it. People, cars, birds even. Only after shaking her head and daring herself to look out the right eye did she find it settled down. Dozing, the sun warmed her bare skin and didn't bother moving until something blocked the sun to chill her. Examining her surroundings, she saw that her aunt was pulling into a parking garage. Stepping out of the car, her aunt handed her keys to the valet and walked down the sidewalk and entered the nearest building. Feeling the stares of workers at the office, she awkwardly shifted her weight from foot to foot while her fished for something in her purse. "Here, for today," her aunt put the bills in her hand.

She took the two fifties and gawked. "Isn't this-" Her aunt gave a sly smile and ruffled her hair affectionately.

"Hun, that's pocket change. Marry a rich man, you'll see. Now, go out and have fun. Most of the sites should be open now. Be back by six or I'll have the police called on you." Aunt Kathy threatened sweetly to her only niece.

"Yes, ma'am." Gloria grinned, stuffing the bills into her own purse and heading back outside. She looked around and quickly went down the street. She didn't really like museums, they were way too stuffy for her liking, and she had no interest in books except the ones she had to read. So she decided on the Lincoln Memorial first. Besides being free to look at, she felt like she could start off the day with something inspirational from a great historical figure of the United States. Walking briskly, she quickly found herself in a group of school children that were following their teachers to the same destination, but she walked past them. The eye clicked in her head, jerking her sight to the children and focusing. She stumbled while it flooded her visual field with the strange symbols for the third time. Some people were starting to look at her: she covered her eye and darted across the street to get ahead of the school group. Quietly swearing, her hand stayed on her eye. _I've got to control this eye: otherwise, this is going to be one hell of a day._ Slipping her sunglasses on, she allowed reprieve by closing her eye without any more attention drawn to herself other than a girl wearing sunglasses.

Following Constitution Avenue, she ignored the other buildings around her and kept on her goal. She looked around, curious. She knew that there had been damages since the incident three years ago, and it was pretty amazing just how quickly the government had fixed everything. Of course, she remembered the day they unveiled the newly finished Lincoln on the Lincoln memorial, but she hadn't visited it since it was rebuilt. She wandered into the Constitutional Gardens, walking past groups with guides and school groups. But it was still rather quiet compared to the afternoon and summer. She felt the sun against her back, enjoying the warmth that the morning rays provided on the cool morning. She finally emerged beside the Reflecting Pool and continued parallel to it. The quiet time allowed her to try and figure out what her dream was last night.

...

**CLASSIFIED NEST LOCATION 09:38 AM EDT**

The monitor screen screeched to life, circling in on an energon detector. Those in the control room immediately found themselves start monitoring the first project of the day.

"What is going on?" A general demanded, leaning forward in his seat. One of the soldiers looked up from his screen. "Sir, we have ED 007 going off report level LE-6."

"Pull the camera up on the screen. Now!" The general ordered. The main screen flickered off the map and the flashed to show camera footage of the morning activity around the Reflecting Pool in Washington D.C. One of the figures, a girl, was highlighted as she kept walking away. "How the hell did something like this get past our security? I want a NEST patrol team out there immediately. I want this to be quick, clean, and not bring any attention to this, understand? Take one of the big boys with the patrol in case this gets messy. Send the order."

"Yes sir." The solider replied, quickly typing in the commands to the closest patrol. The general leaned forward, examining the screen as it switched to ED 008 so they could see her face. Just who the hell was this kid? Or was 'she' even human?

...

The feeling that Gloria couldn't shake from the fading pictures of her dream was how it didn't feel like one. It felt like... a memory. Like she has actually survived the zero-gravity of space and the airless environment that she had been floating in. She rubbed her shoulder, agitated. She continued walking, not paying attention to the scenery.

...

**CLASSIFIED NEST LOCATION 09:43 AM EDT**

"Sir, we've got a confirmation on the patrol. They have the girl in their sights and are working to get her as we speak." The same soldier reported. The general nodded, giving them the go ahead.

...

_Why am I walking so fast?_ she finally realized the near jogging pace in her stride. Her unexpected distress put her on edge for such a quiet morning. Forcing herself to calm down, she slowed down and stopped walking to face the Reflecting Pool. The pool was like a mirror this morning, reflecting the cloudless sky above them. Of course, the trees covered most of her view, but she still found herself looking. She closed her eyes and inhaled, trying to relax, only to find her inactivity was making it worse. In a strange spasm, she jerked her head to the left and opened her left eye. Down the sidewalk was the group of school children that she had passed earlier that morning. But there were three guards walking towards her that she definitely didn't pass. Her gaze met the man in the front.

Her right eye opened, focusing on him. He spoke into his radio. The eye whirred loudly in her head, symbols quickly scrawling out possibly important information.

He was pursuing her.

Her eye flashed red in danger and she turned on her original path. She continued walking to the memorial, but her heart was pounding. Her right eye was out of control, jerking her own left eye all over the place, making her stumble. What was happening? She was scared: the guards seemed closer now. She heard someone call for her from behind.

She bolted.

Looking over her shoulder would only slow her down, so she continued looking forward to keep her eye on the goal at hand: escape. People shouted in annoyance when they were cut in front of or pushed, but she said nothing to them as she focused on putting one foot in front of the other. It was an obstacle course she had to try and get past.

She avoided the memorial entirely, getting a glimpse of the new statue and headed down the nearest walkway. By now she was catching attention of those around her and guards shouting weren't helping.

_In the nose. Out the mouth._ She reminded herself how to breathe.

Why were they after her?

_In the nose. Out the mouth._

Her hands were clammy and cold. Adrenaline was fueling her desperate bid for freedom.

"Stop! Police!"

She skidded to a halt just as a new guard crashed through the tree line, holding up a gun. To her face. "Don't shoot!" She choked out, stumbling backwards.

In the nose. Out the mouth.

"Hands up! On your head!" The guard barked at her, and she complied.

_In the nose. Out the mouth._

Someone threw her to the ground from behind. Her arms were pulled behind her, as she was hand cuffed. Her eye was silent now, quickly clicking in her head. She was caught.

_In the nose. Out the mouth._

She was pushed past the walkway to an awaiting police car by the side of the road.

_In the nose. Out the mouth._

What was happening?

...

She was silent on the way to wherever she was going. The guards had passed her to a group of armed men that looked decked out in the latest military gadgets and had promptly thrown her into the back of a military vehicle. Two others flanked the military hummer joined them when they got onto the main road. It was an incredibly short drive, no more than ten minutes at most in her head. The slowed and pulled up to... the Depart of Human Health and Services? _What? _She examined the front of the building as two SEALS waved the vehicles to pass through. Neither looked too happy when they saw her in the backseat. She wanted to curl into a ball and disappear.

They quickly drove inside, following a road and stopping just long enough for a SEALS man to open the car door and pull her out and pushed her through a door and into a main hall.

"Where are we going?" She finally demanded, tried of the silence and the poor treatment. Her eye focused on him, information pouring into her mind. She frowned: if only she could read those symbols!

"I asked where we're going... Grant." She read his name tag.

The man looked at her briefly, but said nothing and made no kind of emotional response. They approached a checkpoint with a metal detector. She was walked through and patted down and continued on their way after she had given her purse, jacket, and other personal artifacts to the waiting soldier. Treated less like a creature now, Grant merely was guiding her by the arm with three others surrounding her as her escort. Every question she asked brought silence as an answer. She gave up, and instead began to look around the large hanger they entered, slowing down. "Keep moving," Grant ordered, pushing her along. She wasn't allowed to stop now, but her eye seemed to be doing that for her. She was led down a new empty hallway and finally led into small room. Grant stopped her and removed the handcuffs. "Take a seat." He ordered and then left.

Well, this sucked.

She looked around the empty room, but there wasn't any two-way glass that she could see. Her eye frantically searched the room, finally focusing on the door as the only way out. But she wasn't stupid enough to try and leave. She also didn't have a death wish either. Taking a seat, she stared at her fingers for a little bit. What did she do? The only thing she did was run from an officer. Wait, wasn't that a crime? Oh no, and she was 18 too! She put her hands against her face. What if they contacted her mother or father? Or what about her aunt and uncle? She wouldn't know what to say at all! In her self-misery, she failed to hear the door open.

"Good morning, Miss Sullivan." She looked up at the voice. It was a middle-aged man with a grey moustache and buzzed hair that was at the doorframe and entered, followed by Grant. Her eye immediately focused on him, eager it seemed to learn about him. She didn't like the predator look in his eyes or how he looked at her like something below him.

"What's so good about it?" She snapped back, crossing her arms over her chest. He walked to the adjacent seat and sat down in front of her. Grant stood at attention by the wall between the two of them.

"Well, depending on how you help, it can be quite good. This incident will not have even happened if you co-operater with us. Specifically, just me right now." He assured her, resting his intertwined hands on the table.

"And if not-?" She dared to ask.

"Miss Sullivan," he ignored her question and leaned towards her, "you were among the survivors from Chicago three years ago, am I correct?"

Her breath caught in her throat and she stiffened her body. Her left leg ached where it had broken. For a moment, she was overcome with tunnel vision. He took her actions as a 'yes.'

"Let's just say... that this could involve something bigger than Chicago. And you have something that we need."

* * *

><p>I'm experimenting with chapter length. I kinda want to keep them relatively consistent, but I need some feedback from you guys! Too long? Not long enough? Not knowing what series this fanfic is in? (hint: look at the top of the page, it's there) Please let me know!<p>

Rate and Reviews are love! I'm begging for comments and criticism so I can improve this story!


	8. Guardian

What? Almost 100 visitors have found my story? You can cue my excited squealing **_right now_**.

-...

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Chapter Five: Guardian

-...

**Another great figure I know once told me how fate rarely calls upon us at our moment of choosing.**

* * *

><p>Chicago. She hadn't been to the Windy City since the incident three years ago, nor did she ever see herself ever wanting to go back. She hadn't experienced any kind of anxiety or flashbacks since receiving psychological help about the time she had been discharged from the hospital. What this man was doing was dredging the bottom of her memory pool to bring those memories back to the surface. Her throat was dry when she tried to swallow. It took her moment to get her thoughts in some semblance of working order. Her reeling mind was going on the defensive now. Protect her from the damaging memories from .<p>

"What makes you think that?" She snapped back at him. He sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Well, I can't go into exact details, but let's use your medical record. You lost your right eye," she stiffened, "and your father was the one who ordered the prosthetic. Now, what doesn't make sense is how he ordered one, but that eye is in your purse."

She was silent, arms crossed and head looking down at the table to try and keep herself calm.

"Miss Sullivan, what you have is something that can help with our national security. If you refuse to help us, then you will become a threat to national security with that same object. I'm asking kindly to hand over what you have before force is used."

"You can search my purse, but the only thing you'll find is a wallet, makeup, eye patches, and tampons." She retorted, crossing her legs.

"Being stubborn will not help you win this discussion." He explained.

"Well, Congress is doing the exact same thing and look how they're doing."

He leaned over the table to her. "Don't try and change the subject, miss. You are in no position to discuss your own terms. Stop trying to be snarky."

"Then what do you want?" She growled, straightening in her seat.

"You and I both know that your eye isn't human-made. You will hand over the eye to me, the United States government. If not, I am not afraid to keep you here until you are at reasonable speaking terms with up." His voice lowered to a dangerous tone.

She didn't respond. Her head was spinning.

"Will you hand it over to me?" He asked, exasperated.

"I- I would need a bathroom. And I would need one of the patches for my eye in my purse." It was finally sinking in that maybe she didn't have anything to back up her claims with. The man seemed relieved at her sudden cooperation and his mood seemed to lighten. "That can be arranged. It was good working with you." He stood up and left the room, Grant following behind, leaving her to her own devices.

Oh boy... her eye. They already knew about it! She knew she had to work with them; otherwise she would get nowhere. They were the government, and rhey knew best, right? But how was she going to get the eye out? She only found out how to get it in by accident, and she was unconscious when it implanted itself. How was she going to get it out now?

The door opened, and Grant was standing right outside. "Come on."

She nervously stood up and he led her to the bathroom with the three others. She stood at the door and he handed her one of her medical patches for her eye. "Um, thanks."

She walked inside and walked to the sink and washed her hands, hoping the water would make them think she was doing something. She looked at herself in her mirror. The eye was perfect. She could feel that it more like a real eye. There was no way she could just pop it out like her prosthetic. There had to be some way!

"One minute." Grant knocked on the door.

She panicked. _Come on: think of something Gloria!_ She chided herself. _It's a machine thing, right? Maybe-_ In a desperate bid, she opened her lids wide and pushed the middle of her iris. She felt nothing at first, and she wondered if it wouldn't come out. The vision left her right eye. She watched, some horror and fascination, as she heard the eye whirr and click and simply fall out into her free hand.

"Shit!" Blood started to run down her cheek from her eye, and she dropped the eye into the sink. The soldier walked in to watch her wash off her face and quickly stuff the gauze and put on the eye patch over her eye. She stopped the water and meekly smiled. "Done."

She was forced to give the eye to him and led back into the room. He said nothing to her and left her to her own devices. She touched her eye patch, suddenly missing her eye. But was it really a threat to national security like the man had implied? She sighed and rested her head on her arms on the table. Now she just had to wait to be released... hopefully.

…..

She had no way to monitor how much time passed. She was bored, sure, but she had nothing to do. And she was getting hungry. Couldn't they get her something to eat? Or at least let her have her phone? This was starting to suck more than before. She couldn't even fall asleep! Damnit. At least it didn't feel like it was six yet, so at least her aunt wasn't calling the police to look for her. Yet.

The door slammed open, starting her from her seat. The man who had interviewed her was standing there, agitated. "You are coming with me." He was flustered and walked out from the door before she could respond to his question. She stood up and walked after him, trying to catch up. Had something happened? She knew better than to ask though with how he was acting. "Keep in mind," he reminded her as they headed down the hall, "everything you're about to see and have experienced is top secret. You do not breathe a word of this, understand?" He stopped at a door and looked at her.

"Yes, sir."

"Good, you're a smart girl." He pulled out his card and held it in front of the door. It beeped, letting them in. He ushered her in through metal catwalks and railings and into a large hanger. Below her, she could see soldiers busying themselves on the ground floor, voices floating up to their lofted positions in the catwalk. They didn't pay attention to the sound of their feet clanging on metal while they continued to work on… soldier things? She wasn't too informed with military operations. They looked like they were working on and truck and a car that definitely weren't military issued, but she couldn't hear what they were saying. Maybe it was better just to not to ask questions. Walking down the stairs, she was led to a central area where she saw the eye in a small tray on a table. They approached it and he pointed to the seat in front of it for her to sit down at. She briefly glanced at the eye, a strange ache in the pit of her stomach. The man hovered over her as several soldiers kept at attention around them. "How does it work?" He asked, silent.

"What-" He cut her off.

"I asked you a question. Answer it."

"I really don't know either."

"But you can put it in?" He asked.

"Yes, I-"

"Good. Do it."

"Now?"

He looked at her again, silent. That was a yes.

Trying to relieve her dry throat, she swallowed. She pulled the patch off, laying the bloody gauze on top of it. Picking up the metal ball, she stroked it gently, the cool metal giving some comfort. Sighing, she rolled it so the button was looking at her. She stroked it around the perimeter of the black.

Nothing happened.

"If this is some kind of-" he began impatiently, but stopped short. The outside of the black button glowed blue. Coming the life, the small, sharp insect legs emerged and dug into her skin. It seemed distracted and was examining the area around it. "Make it quick." She mumbled.

The ball immediately scurried up her arm and towards her face. She braced, but suddenly the thing was picked up. She turned, seeing it being thrown into a glass box by a soldier. The creature screeched, sharp legs digging into the glass. She saw a bolt of electricity and the thing was thrown to the ground of its container. "What do you think you're doing to it!" She demanded, standing up and roughly shoved down to her seat by a soldier beside her.

"Security measures, Miss Sullivan. I told you before, it's for the safety of our country." The suited man said, watching them take the box away. She could hear it scrapping its legs against the glass and continue its protest.

"It's mine though! Give it back! It isn't something you can just zap on your own whim like a rat in an experiment!" She protested, but was held down in her seat by the solider again.

"Not anymore, Miss Sullivan. It is now the property of the United States Government. You may have it back one day, but not today. Until then, we can do whatever we want to it." He looked at the solider to his left and nodded. The soldier stepped away from the group and radioed something in. She wanted to spit at this man. "Miss Sullivan, we do appreciate your working with us. As a means of thanks, here's what you'll get from us. Until we know what that eye is, you will be watched." She was grabbed by the arm and pulled out of her seat, dragged to the end of the hanger.

"We'll contact you when we have more information, and we will give you a phone that can reach me, but only contact me if there is an emergency. Don't worry; you'll hardly notice us there. If you don't tell anyone what happened, am I clear? We do not exist."

He stopped at the end of the hanger and turned. Before him was a silver car. "As an apology for the treatment, here's a car from us. Temporary, of course, until we contact you about the eye."

She looked at the car then him. She laughed.

"What?" The man demanded.

"You think you can placate me with a nice car? You disgust me."

"I assure it, this is procedure." He handed her the keys to the car and the black phone. She took both of them, suspicious of the gifts she was receiving.

"I'm glad we could work this issue out, Miss Sullivan." He offered his hand. She looked at him for a moment in confusion, but took it.

Suddenly he was locking something on her wrist. "Is this a joke?" She demanded, unable to pull away from his death grip. "I'm not a criminal! I don't need a tracking bracelet!" He leaned into her face, too close for comfort.

"As far as I am concerned, until we figure out that that thing is, you're just as bad as those machines that destroyed Chicago." She looked away, face pale. Her hand was cold in his grip. After a moment, he let go. "Now, that also will serve as a secondary key. It will unlock when you get within five feet of the car. They'll escort you out." She said nothing as he walked away. But she hated to not be the person with the last word.

"Goodbye, Donovan."

He immediately turned to watch her get in and turn on the engine, roaring in anticipation. The hanger was opened and a military jeep drove out, followed by her. He watched the car disappear out of sight and went back to walking. Whatever that eye was, it was dangerous. If it could let her find out his name, then what else could it do?

* * *

><p>Annnnnd done! Finally, an Autobot appears. Well, in his alt-mode, but an Autobot nonetheless. The real fun begins next chapter along with copious amounts of paranoia on Gloria's end. I can so mean to my characters.<p>

Rate and Review please! I'll love you for forever!


	9. Woven Between Fingers

Is anyone here a big Dr. Who fan? Watched the entire fifth season with one of my BFFFFFFFF's yesterday. About 11 hours of awesome and no regrets.

Oh, and a brief not on the text discussion later:

Person #1:_ xxxxx _

Person #2:_**xxxxx_

Example Discussion (insert your own dialogue where the x's are!):

_xxx?_

_**xxxx!_

_...xx._

_**xxxx!_

Now you know! *imagine in Bill Nye voice for best effect*

**-...**

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Chapter Six: Woven Between Fingers

**-...**

**Maybe that can help explain why I put everything in my rather normal life on hold and willingly flew half-way across the world into the hands, er, claws of a madman.**

* * *

><p>She pulled in front of her aunt's work a little bit before six, finding it hard to believe that she barely had enough time to get something to eat and drive over to meet up with her aunt after they released her. She put the car in park and rubbed her face, waiting for her to come outside. "I am such a bitch." She muttered, putting her forehead on the steering wheel. "Why do I let my emotions push and pull me along like that? And no, I will not accept the answer that 'I am a girl' because that isn't how I roll." She looked up at the door and saw no one emerge from the doors. She leaned back in her seat and looked at the ceiling of the car. She inhaled, smelling the odd mixture of new car and military diesel from the hanger. "Well, car, I guess we'll be hanging out for some time. But what should I tell my aunt? Coming back with a brand-new car isn't something one can ignore like getting new clothes. And you definitely aren't a hundred bucks either. I guess I better figure something out before she comes out."<p>

Of course, she saw her aunt emerge from her office, distracted by something on her mind. Gloria scrambled out of her new car and called to her aunt to get her attention. "Aunt Kathy!"

She aunt turned, looking relieved and immediately walked towards her. "Thank goodness you're okay! I tried calling you three times! Where were you and why didn't you answer?"

"Sorry, my phone died. I went over to a friends house." She managed to give a sheepish smile.

"Really?" Her aunt inquired, crossing her arms and giving Gloria her famous 'I-am-not-impressed-by-your-act' look. Gloria stumbled over her words.

"Y-Yeah. He called me to come over. And he was heading out of town for a bit, so he gave me his car to look over." She pointed to the said vehicle. Her aunt gave it a disdainful sweep over it with her gaze.

"Well, you're a horrible liar just like my sister. But I guess you can use it as long it doesn't involve drugs or a gang. I'll meet you at home." She turned to leave.

"What? Aren't we supposed to go to the hospital?"

Her aunt stopped, looking at her. "I am, but you aren't. Grown-up stuff."

"No fair! I'm an adult too!" She stomped her foot on the concrete.

"And that attitude won't get you anywhere. Just go home; I'll be there later. Just be careful with that car of yours. There's plenty of food in the fridge and in the kitchen." She continued to the parking garage, leaving her behind.

"What happened?" Gloria dared to ask, but her aunt ignored her and disappeared. She watched her drive away, tires screeching on her classic car.

Angry, she stormed back to her car and got in. She turned the engine on, hearing the malevolent tone in the purr. She shifted out of park and immediately got on the highway. Pushing the engine, she quickly reached the speed limit but went no farther since she wasn't feeling that dangerous. "I am mature." She argued out loud, turning on the radio and blasting the channel it was on though she paid no attention to what was playing.

…..

She pulled up into the driveway and parked the car. She had turned the radio down and had calmed down. She sat back in the seat, looking at the roof again. She had nothing to do the rest of the night. Once more, she inhaled the noxious but appealing smell that lingered in the car.

"Okay," she patted the steering wheel, "so I guess I should leave you out here. Or should I leave you in the garage? But would my aunt be angry with that? Uncle isn't here, so would it be okay? I don't know." She rested her head on the steering wheel, looking at her legs. "I guess I'll just leave you outside, I don't want my aunt to be angry at me." She turned the car off and stepped outside, hugging herself in the cooler air with the sun setting. With no one in the cul-de-sac where her aunt lived, she giddily skipped around the car, examining its exterior and stopped in front of the hood. Despite the treatment during the day and having her eye taken, she honestly was excited over getting this car for the time being. _Especially_ a very expensive car like the one she was now driving around town. "So, Mr. Car, my name is Gloria. And your name will be… well, I don't know yet." She scratched her head in thought. "I'll figure something out for you soon, okay? I mean, I won't have you for too long, but I think it's important for us to be friends while we're together. A name is important to share with friends; for example, my other car is named Bear.

"I suppose I should let you know that I do know you're a Corvette Stingray, a concept car from Chevrolet. I would like to thank my brother for the knowledge to identify cars. And some of the accessories people like to add to trick out their cars. And I may or may not know how to hotwire a vehicle because of him. Hmm, I wonder…"

She should have waited until morning to look when the light was good, but it was as tempting as a kid in a candy store where there were free samples. Opening the front door, she reached in and pulled the lever to open the hood.

"Alright, what's underneath?"

She stepped outside of the door and awkwardly moved between the hood and the car body that opened with the hinge on the front, not from the window like she had dealt with before. Pushing the hood forward, she examined the engine. It was rather impressive with what she could make out in the dying light. She pulled out something from her purse, a small Maglite, and shone it into the engine compartment to examine it more carefully.

"Looks like you've been messed with before. There under here than just a simple Corvette engine. Hmm… nitrous shots, but that isn't a bad thing. And I definitely don't think that many are even practical, let alone legal. Now, what's this? Is that some kind of modified air filter-"? She tugged at one of the wires, trying to move it so she could get a better look at what was below.

The car's alarm blared.

She startled, jumping back as the light slipped from her hand, clacking loudly against the concrete driveway. "Oh no!" Snatching the maglite back into her hands, she tried clicking it on, but found it wasn't working. Unscrewing the bottom, she slid the batteries out and put them back in. Crossing her fingers, she tried it again to find it still not working. Frowning, she looked at the car as it sat in her driveway, silent. "This is all your fault." She accused, pulling out the keys in her pocket and tossed them beside her purse on the ground, realizing that the fabric must have pushed the alarm button. _Please let this work. You're my favorite maglite._ She thought, smacking it against her palm a few times, the light flickering back on. She punched the air in triumph and turned her attention to the car hood but found it closed. "Weird." She noted, but went to the open door and unlocked the hood.

There was a moment of uneasy silence.

She frowned, and pulled it again. She heard the lever pull the latch back like it should, but the hood would not open. Stepping out of the car, she tried pulling the hood up herself but it wouldn't budge. She really hoped it wasn't broken. She walked back to the driver's seat and tried again, but still nothing.

"Come on, open up! I am getting cold and just want to finish looking under the hood!" Nothing.

"I swear I will ruin your paintjob if you don't open the hood!" She growled. Nothing again.

"Fine! I'm sorry! I have no intention to harm you Mr. Car! I just want another peek and then I'll leave you alone, I swear!"

Pop.

She looked up from the latch, seeing the hood up. Scrambling out from the seat, she examined the hood with some suspicion. She leaned over the engine and looked around with the maglite to see well. She peered around, seeing just what was with the engine, careful not to touch anything. Something caught her eye. They were the same strange letters that she had seen with her right eye the brief time she procured it. "What is that?" She whispered, leaning over it now, straining her eyes to make them out in the dark space of the engine even with the help of the light. For a brief moment, she understood it. "-Sideswipe?" She asked out loud, cocking her head to one side.

The roar of the engine made her shout in alarm as she fell on her butt. Maglite forgotten as it clattered on the ground and turned off.

She had never run so fast in her life to get inside.

…..

"Gloria, of all the people in the world, why are you sleeping behind the couch? You know that your pain flares up whenever you sleep on a hard surface!"

Gloria started, jerking her head up at her aunt and pulled off her sunglasses. "What time is it?" Her chest, arm, and leg throbbing dully: why did she sleep on the floor? Her mind was slow to start up whenever she woke from a nap.

"Twelve-thirty. And get your new car in the garage before it's stolen. Take your uncle's spot then get to bed."

She walked away from her as she mumbled something about kids and sleep, but turned on the living room lights on to get her up. Groggy, Gloria sat up and stretched to try and work out the cramps and kinks around her body. "Wait, aunt Kathy, did you get my purse from outside?"

"What are you talking about? It's on the kitchen counter. Take that upstairs, you know I don't like a messy house." Limping, she began walking out her bad leg and went the kitchen. There on the counter, her purse was where her aunt had shouted where it was. Opening it, she rummaged around to find her keys and maglite inside. _I definitely did not bring this purse inside with me. Let's see, I hide behind the couch… from my car… for a while and then I fell asleep._ Something was wrong, grabbing her key and heading outside of the house. She didn't even take off her jacket or shoes when she ran inside, too terrified to thinks straight. Stopping, her eye examined the car but saw that the hood and car door had already been closed. Maybe her aunt-? No, she would have yelled at her for that. How could it have done that? Some kind of timer that closed the door and the hood as a safety procedure? And what about the car starting on its own power? A manufacturing error perhaps? It seemed to make sense, things like that happened a lot, but not something as serious as that. Pulling it into the garage, she sat in the driver's seat for a moment, thumb to her lip in thought. She pulled out the black phone and flipped it open, pressing the speed-dial. She leaned back and listened to the phone ring several times before she got an answer. _**"The number you have dialed is currently unavailable. At the tone, please record your message, when you have finished recording…"**_

She sighed, listening to the message machine before finally beeping. "Donovan. This is Gloria Sullivan. I think something is wrong with the ignition of the car you gave me, the Stingray concept car. It turned on when I was outside of the car and the keys were on the ground at the time. I think that there might be a manufacturing error. Call me back when you get this message." Closing the phone, she turned the engine off and stepped out, closing the door. She sighed, crossing her arms in the cold. "I find it hard to believe that something is wrong with you due to the manufacture, Sideswipe, but it's the best I can think of for what happened. I'm going to take you over to a friend to see what he thinks." She walked down the side of the car, letting her fingers brush the finished side of her car in thought. After a few moments of silence, her eyes went back into focus. "Goodnight, and don't do anything stupid while I'm gone." She locked it and went back inside, closing the garage door behind her.

…..

**Text Conversation 23:48**

_Alexei? R u awake?_

_**I am now._

_Sorry! Could i come over to ur house tomorrow?_

_**No prob gloria. Sure, i guess, my folks are out of town._

_:D Yay!_

_**Any reason why you want to come over?_

_Car issue._

_**How many times have i told you, i am NOT your personal mechanic._

_Oh, trust me, u will appreciate what i have in store._

_**Doubt it. You owe me mickey d's this time._

_I know u dont mind working on cars. Especially this 1_

_**…what?_

_Ur going to have to wait until tommorw. And mickey d's 4 sure._

_**Whatever._

* * *

><p>Ugh. I absolutely HATED writing that small bit of texting at the end between Alexei and Gloria. I NEVER text like that, it honestly grates against my skin the wrong way. Well, exceot the I's because it's tedious on my phone to capitalize them.<p>

I'm going to try to update maybe two times tomorrow since I won't be near the internet for the next week or so, but I swear I will have my laptop with this story so I continue writing! Please R & R because I know you want to!


	10. The Scratched Record That is The Mind

**FUN AUTHOR FACT #1:** In the previous chapter, Gloria orders Sideswipe to not "do anything stupid while [she's] gone." This is actually something that I tell my horses whenever I leave them unattended on the cross ties when I run to grab something.

I just want to give a shout out to Lionlover190; thank you so much for all of your inspiring comments! I'm refueled and ready to write! :3 Oh, and thanks again to Memmi for her other comments as well, I'm so glad that someone else besides me thinks that Donovan is a sleazy jerk! :D

**-…**

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Chapter Seven: The Scratched Record That is the Mind

**-…**

**I would have thought someone crazy to tell me just how willing I would be to lay down my life for someone I had never met before, but look at me now.**

* * *

><p>"Whatever happened to 'it's rude to keep a lady waiting'? And remember, he's a friend of mine, so you better behave. None of what happened last night."<p>

Gloria reminded her car as she yawned, seeing the ten-minute mark of waiting outside of Alexei's house with no indicator he was coming out. The temperature was colder than yesterday and she wasn't too keen to wait outside her car even though the sun was out and shining. She knew her childhood friend well enough to know that he was just trying to piss her off this morning because of his belief that she was using him to fix her car for free. She finally tapped the horn, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. The garage door slowly opened and Alexei crouched under the opening door, trying to look like he was disinterested… until he saw the car. He stumbled forward a few steps before his mind seemed to short circuit to leave him standing there, dumb and staring. She turned the car off and opened the door, leaning on the open door. "Still don't want to work on my car Alexei?" She asked, enjoying his gasping fish expression. He blinked and closed his mouth, opening it again to gape.

"How the HELL did you get that?" He croaked out, approaching the car and touching the hood, not quite believing what he was seeing.

"A friend," she half-lied, "and yes, this is the car that I'm having trouble with." He ignored her, circling the car to feast his eyes on the car at all angles.

"Some friend you have," he mused, "mind if you acquaint him with me?" She grimaced, but he was too focused on the car to notice. "The Stingray is still a concept: the Internet doesn't even know about its' specs! And here you are with one on my driveway…"

"Oi, the problem is under the hood, not the paint job." He seemed to snap out of it and walked to the hood of the car. "What's the problem?" He asked as she watched her pop the hood of the Corvette, smoothly opening to reveal the engine. He propped the hood open, eyes scanning the engine before him.

"It's starting on its own, and don't drool on anything." She teased, bumping him in the leg with how close he was examining him. He straightened, a bit flustered and tried to defend himself. "What makes you think that?" She rolled her eyes. "You are exactly like my brother, that's why." Alexei mocked an angry face at her but just smiled, starting back into his garage to grab some tools. He and her brother Gabe were like brothers in everything but blood. They were inseparable since the second grade when they found out that they both liked cars. Luckily, they looked completely different. While they both had brown hair, Alexei had bright hazel eyes and was half a head taller than Gabe. She was patient as he verbally broke down every aspect of the car's engine for the both of them. Some parts puzzled him, and he said he would have to look them up later for cross-reference. "So, what's his name?" He asked as he started to pick at and pulling on wires and pipes that were in the way of what he was looking for.

She was red and looked away. "Sideswipe, I think."

"How'd you get the name? And here we are, the solenoid."

"I think I saw it on the engine. Must be the brand or something." She smoothly lied, nervous. She was weird enough in his eyes to begin with, and saying she could read jibberish symbols was not going to help take away some of those weird points.

"I don't see any brands on the engine, or anything for that matter. I guess this is too much of a concept car to need labels right now."

"Oh, then I guess it just appeared in my head." She nervous laughed.

"I am jealous though, he seems like a nice car." He affectionately patted the engine and slammed the hood down. "That should do it. The solenoid was a bit off, but it was easy to adjust. You own me McDonalds." He grinned triumphantly, seeing that he was ending on the better deal. Maybe he could push his luck. "And I was wondering if maybe I could, you know-" She raised a hand to stop him, knowing where he was going.

"No. You are not driving this car. You're good at fixing cars, but when you're behind the wheel, you're a threat to every driver in a forty-mile radius."

"Tch. Killjoy." He mumbled, but she could tell he was still in good humor. He motioned for her to come inside, taking one last glance at her car.

…..

"So, why are you telling me about this dream?" He asked from the couch he was sprawled across in his living room. She rolled her eyes, looking at him with her good eye from the second couch in the room. Cartoons were playing on the television but neither of them was watching the brawl-fest that the main character was participating in against his foe.

"Because, Sherlock, you're my crazy UFO outer space man. Plus you're my friend, so you should listen to my problems."

"Reality check Mulan: I'm a guy. Girls are where you get sympathy from, not your crazy UFO slash car nut friend." He chugged his water bottle and threw it into the trashcan. He knew that she would chew him out for calling her Mulan, her favorite Disney princess. He was shocked to receive silence from her couch.

"Yeah. Sorry." Her voice was nearly drowned out by the sound of the television. He groaned in his head, putting his hands over his face: women, why were they so confusing? And why did he try to understand her? "Fine: tell me again about this dream of yours." He asked grudgingly.

"I can't remember much, but it just felt real. Like, too real to be just a dream. The feeling of weightlessness is the biggest thing I can remember the most, not the pictures. I watch something falling to Earth from space. Then after a few moments I'm falling too, through the atmosphere. Yellow. Orange. Red. White. Blue, and maybe violet by the end of it. Then nothing. Black. Of course, my mom woke me up before the dream could end naturally."

"Where did that thing crash? I mean, before you crashed?" He asked: she bit her lip in momentary thought. "I think Russia maybe? I couldn't really tell."

A commercial came on advertising candy. There was silence.

"Sounds like Tunguska, but why did you have a dream about that? Was there something on television about it? You should have recorded it for me. Hey, are you okay?" He sat up on the couch, looking at Gloria. She was standing up, watching the television as the show came back on. They were floating above space while the narrator talked about the characters. He could tell she wasn't paying attention to what was being said, her eyes distant in thought. Her own water bottle slipped from her hand and fell onto the car, spilling. "I have to go." She blurted, leaving him in the living room. "Hey, Mulan- wait!" She grabbed her shoes and jacket, heading out the door before he could try and stop her.

"What's with you? You need to get towels to get the water up! And what about my food?" He stopped in front of her car, the engine drowning his voice out. She gave him a sympathetic look as the car skidded out of the driveway and swerved to parallel his house. The impatient engine roared, lurching forward to send her out of his sight. He shouted at her until she left his sight.

Her chest hurt for leaving him behind, but she needed to get somewhere. Tunguska, huh? She was familiar with the story of the impact through her uncle. But there was something more now, something in her memories that were stirring and she had to bring them to light. What she needed was to go back to her aunt's house and investigate something that seemed so obvious now: she wanted to smack her head against the dashboard for her previous stupidity. She had a good idea of where exactly she should search.

…..

She hopped out of the car, hastily locking the car behind her as she ran inside the house, dropping her stuff beside the door and headed down into the basement. She turned on the lights and headed down to her uncle's office. Pausing, she tried to door and found that it was unlocked, letting her to walk inside. She looked inside, finding the room immaculate just like her uncle liked it. Running her hand through her hair, she began to pace in front of her uncle's desk. What was she doing in here? This was her uncle's private office- he didn't even allow his wife, her aunt, in this room. This was a definite rule breaker, but something was in her head telling her to do this, whispering that something down here needed to be found by her. She walked over to the file cabinet and opened the top drawer, but found nothing inside. Quickly pulling the other drawers, she found them all empty. Slamming the last one closed with her foot, she paced around once more. Trying the desk, she found the drawers filled with office supplies. Jittery, she went to the paintings and looked behind them one by one, finding nothing once more. Finally, she went to his small bookshelf and began to throw books on the floor, frantic. She finally got results when she found a small safe behind the last of the books. It was a digital safe. Frantically, she began to type in a date.

30-06-08.

The lock popped undone, allowing her to open it and pull out the files that were in the safe. Hands shaking, she pulled them out and sat at the desk and placed them before her. Her mind was running in circles, skipping over bits and pieces. It was like she had been given a dot-by-dot picture with only the starting and ending dots with a few pinpoints in between. Throat dry, she opened the files. She swallowed, reading the information before her as quickly as she could.

Photographs consisted of most of the first file. The photographs were old, black and white and grainy. The landscape in the photographs was unusual, the land was dead; trees were pushed down to the ground and burned for miles from the photograph. The only life in the pictures was the explorers themselves and the dogs that they had with them. It looked like it was summer from the garb they had on. Moving from picture to picture, two men kept appearing, probably the leaders of the expedition, directing everything from setting up camp to using equipment with the other men. In two photographs she saw a man in a military uniform, but she couldn't be sure just what he was.

The next file was more technical. Pieces of parchment from journals that looked like they would fall apart if touched. Military papers labeled 'CLASSIFIED' and large portions blacked out with a clumsy hand in magic marker. She tried reading it, but it was either coded or in Old Russian that she didn't know how to read except for bits and pieces that were scattered around the documents. One word she could make out was in English in bold letters.

_ICARUS._

She closed the file and angrily threw it on the floor, rocking the chair she was in. This got her nowhere! Her head was buzzing with thoughts that just kept repeating, half-formed and inconsistent. Icarus? What was Icarus? Could it have been a secret Soviet Union weapon? Maybe the site they were at. But, if that was Tunguska, scientists had concluded that there was no radiation there or any evidence of it being a weapon and had vouched it had come from space…

"But what does this have to do with me?" She asked the room, but of course she wouldn't get an answer.

**Thud.**

She held her breath, ears alert to what was outside of the office. Was that the furnance?

**Thud thud.**

Oh no! Was that the garage door opening? She jumped out of the chair and grabbed the files to stuff them back into the safe, locking it. She wished she hadn't torn apart the bookshelf, but she had no choice but to put them back up wherever she could. Doing an once-over to make the books were upright, she darted out of the room and ran upstairs. She opened the basement door a crack to peek to make sure she could slip out. Quickly, she slipped through the door and closed it behind her, relieved that her aunt wasn't there. "Hello? Aunt Kathy?" She called, heading into the living room to try and find her, but saw no evidence that anyone else was there. "Hello? Are you home Aunt Kathy?" She tried again, drifting upstairs. She knocked on her aunt's bedroom, but got no response. Gloria frowned, putting her hands on her hips: maybe it was the furnace, but it sounded a lot like someone was in the garage…

_At least I got the office fixed before Aunt Kathy got home._ Convincing herself it was the furnace, she walked back downstairs and decided she should at least put Sideswipe inside the garage so her aunt wouldn't yell at her. She grabbed the key and jogged outside, planning on making a quick run back inside but found her car to be missing. "WHAT?" She shouted in disbelief, looking around for any sign of it. There was no way in _hell_ that someone could have stolen that car! She stumbled back inside, fumbling with her phone. Should she call the police first? Or maybe Donovan because he gave her that car? He was going to KILL her if this was actually happening to her. She hit the dial button and put it to her ear, heading to the garage. _"- hello?"_ Her aunt asked over the line.

"Aunt Kathy," Gloria exclaimed as relief washing over her while she opened the door to the garage, "where are you?"

_"Gloria, I'm at my job right now. Is something wrong?"_

"You aren't going to believe this, but-" her voice died in her throat, forgetting the conversation.

_"Gloria? What's wrong? Did something happen?"_ Her aunt's voice was concerned at her niece's silence.

"Um, it's nothing. The television wasn't working but now it's on. Sorry to bother you." She hung up, phone nearly falling out of her grasp from shock. Her car was in the garage.

* * *

><p>To any car person: yes, I moved the solenoid to be accessible on the top of the car. Why? BECAUSE I AM GOD TO THIS WORLD. Now, off to work on a new chapter. It's strange now since I don't actually have the next bits of this story written out yet while all of the previous chapters were all ready to go...<p>

Wait, am I the only one to think that I make Gloria drop EVERYTHING she holds? I guess I made her a butterfingers without realizing it. Oopsies.

Please read and review, thanks!

-Mika


	11. Fragments

I'm a little pressed for time, but I promised you guys another chapter and I try to keep promises!

**Guide for the chapter:**

.

_this is a dream this is a dream this is a dream this is a dream this is a dream_

.

That's about it.

**-…**

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Chapter Eight: Fragments

**-…**

**I have listened to him when he whispered into my ear; he told me of many things when he had the chance to speak. **

* * *

><p>Her nails dug into the wood of the doorframe, trying to think how this could have happened: she had parked the car outside and had left if locked to go inside. She might have had a shoddy memory at times, but not THAT bad at remembering where she put things, definitely not something as large as a car. There was no way that someone could have gotten into the car, let alone be kind enough to drive it into the garage for her. They would have gotten into the house to open the garage door and she had already gone through the house and found no one. Nothing about this was making sense. What if her car was possessed? Ghost stories and anything involving spirits was something she avoided like the plague, but right now that was only thing that was making sense in the event she was wrapped up in now.<p>

"That isn't possible! You're just a car." Fumbling to comfort herself, her mind was running but no explanation could click into place. Sitting down on the steps beneath her, she rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on while she kept an eye on the silent car. "Should I even attempt to understand Sideswipe? I feel like I shouldn't bother and just play this off as a bad memory. What do you think?"

Silence (of course) from the car, but she definitely could feel the mood.

"All right, I won't tell if you don't tell anyone if I went through my uncle's study. Deal?"

Silence, but the mood had changed to a lighter, less oppressive in feeling.

"I'm going back inside and taking a nap because you gave me a headache."

.

_Dreams were always strange to Gloria. They could flow along smoothly like they were going down a river. The next moment they could shatter into a thousand pieces like delicate porcelain without a single warning on her end. It could open a whole world to her with the pieces falling down to her like large flakes of snow and snuff it out like a blown-out candle. This time the world came to her like smoke curling upwards from that same candle, bringing soft grays to paint the world before her. A ship. Not one from the ocean, but a space ship. It seemed abandoned from what was visible. There was no noise in the dream as she moved around the large main deck she was at, putting her on alert. For some reason, something had been done to one of the walls beforehand, but she couldn't quite remember why and for what. Alarmingly, the ship lurched to the side, being shaken from the outside to send her to her knees. Vaguely, softer shaking of the ground announced that someone was coming to her. She lifted her head to look down the hall, but was thrown to the ground again. A hand wrapped around her upper arm, pulling her up to her feet. She turned to look at who had done helped her up-_

_._

Her eye shot open, revealing the darkness of the guest room. Slowly, she sat up in her bed and looked at the alarm clock placed on the bedside table- 02:55 in the morning. Groaning, she allowed herself to fall back into her pillow. Of all the times to wake up! Why did it always happen when something interesting was about to go down? Yet, something didn't feel right. To be precise, she didn't feel that well. She felt ill. How she even made it to the bathroom before she threw up was a true miracle.

.

_The shaking of the ship was worse now that she was walking, heading to the heart of the ship. There was no one with her again, but she needed no direction. Pulled by something unseen, her eyes fell on a small emergency latch that was on the floor. Hovering over it, she kneeled down and turned it, opening it to the outside. Taking one look at the surrounds, she stepped through the hole and began to free-fall. The stars glittered agains the black velvet of space, distracting her from her goal momentarily. Why couldn't the stars fight instead of her? Seeing another ship enter her vision, she turned towards it and somehow began to make her way over, pushed by something unseen. An object dropped from the enemy ship, approaching her as well. Her mouth moved silently, desperate to finish something. Before she had to worry about the enemy, she reached up with her hand and went for her eye, determined to tear it out as a final piece of hope that somehow, someday the ship would-_

.

"Oh, my poor niece. You need to stay home today, and I don't care if you have any previous engagements today; you need to rest after last night in case it flares again. I hope you aren't going to have to spend the rest of your week being ill." Her aunt fluttered by her beside, feeling her forehead to see if it was warm again. Gloria kept her eyes closed, trying to keep the light at bay so her head wouldn't start pounding again. She had been ill for about four hours last night, throwing up and suffering from a high fever. In the early morning her fever broke and her vomiting subsided enough to let her crawl back into bed to deal with the sudden headache. Her aunt was diligent to attend her beside, ready to provide comfort when possible to her niece. It was two hours later and she had to leave for work, but she was trying to make sure that Gloria had everything she needed for the day by herself. "Will you be okay if I leave you?" Aunt Katherine asked for the final time: Gloria remained silent but gave her a diver's 'okay' hand signal to express herself. Gently patting her niece's shoulder, she slipped from the room and left the house to leave her.

Stuffing a pillow over her face, Gloria spent the next few hours in between being wide awake and asleep, exhausted from her illness that had left her. She drank and ate very little that her aunt had left her, but it did seem to help her. Her headache was an entirely different matter though. It seemed that it would go away when she was on her back with the pillow over her head, but sitting up or taking the pillow off of her face was what caused the pain to spike and have the hammer strike against the back of her head. Sometime during the afternoon, the headache disappeared. Slowly coming out of her sick daze, she sat up in bed and walked to the window of her room, peering outside to see rain falling from dark clouds overhead. I guess the weather gave me the headache… Sighing, the blinds fell over the window as she retreated back to her bed to get out of her pajamas and into regular clothes. Crouching down to pick up her discarded socks, her attention was drawn to something hidden under the bed. Reaching under, she pulled out what she found to be her spare notebook that was used to keep her thoughts in check before going to bed or remembering something. Frowning, her eye examined the pages carefully as she flipped through the notebook. What is this? She silently asked, horrified at what was before her. Her hands began to feel around under the bed once more, trying to find something else to connect the pages inside it to reality. Fingers grasped at string and a stubby stick that was thrown farther under the bed. Examining the two newest objects in her hand, she felt like she was going to be sick. She needed to tell someone, but whom?

…..

"Okay, so let me establish this first before I go any further," Gloria pointed to her car while she stuffed the other hand in her jacket to stay warm in the garage, "I am not insane, alright? I am just talking to you Sideswipe, and you can't judge whether I am crazy or not. After all, you aren't the one who judges me on the outside world where insanity is frowned upon." From under her arm she pulled out the notebook and held it before him. "You see this? I usually keep this around with me because I sometimes need to write something down in the middle of the night before I forget in the morning. Whatever, that isn't important. The important thing is this: I wrote something down in this book last night. The whole book from cover to cover. Let's see, I think the cover says how many pages- no, I can't read it because I covered it." She showed the cover to the car, smeared symbols scrawled all over it. "I don't remember doing this last night, but get this." She rummaged through her pockets and pulled out a pile of string. "See this? This is what remains of a china marker. Er, it's a grease pencil, whatever. Writes on almost any surface. Pull the string, the pencil provides more to write with. I used a whole one of these last night. And a half." She pulled out the remaining stub and showed it to the car. "See? But it doesn't make sense, how could I have written this much in fours hours when I was sick the rest of the night? I mean, my aunt watched over me the rest of the night and would have seen it happening."

She started flipping through the pages, each one filled with the symbols. She kept pacing in front of the car, nerves on edge. "I can tell that this has to be some kind of word because there are six symbols that keep repeating themselves. I think… I mean, I can write them just fine it seems like. I can't read them, but I also can't write them now. I've tried and I'm glad you weren't there to see the failing. I think this might have happened another night too because the first page has the symbols written in blue pen. Oh, what do I do?" She finally stopped and sat down, leaning against the tire of the car and looked up. She flipped through the pages carefully. "I think… this is because of the eye Sideswipe. I didn't have a problem before the eye or when I had it in. Isn't something like this supposed to happen in sci-fi flicks that I watch with Alexei?"

The car said nothing of course, but its presence eased her psyche. "Maybe you're right… maybe there is something about that eye. Like a residual signal that still lets me somehow write those symbols but not see them. But that's crazy, something like that can't happen. Oh God, what if this happens again tonight? I guess I should buy more notebooks in case it happens again tonight." Despite the stern warnings she had received earlier that her aunt had given, she went out to town to purchase more notebooks and chinese markers.

.

_So there she was once more, floating in the nothing of space. The enemy was gone, destroyed from the encounter with her. She watched the remains fall into the atmosphere of the world below her, burning to ashes in its state. The ship that had attacked had fallen shortly after into what seemed to be an ocean. Her own ship had fallen as well, gracefully plunging into the atmosphere and puncturing collections of precipitation as it made its way to the snow-covered north in a mountainous area. Now she was alone, allowed to dwell on things past, present, and future. There were a lot of 'hopes' running around in her mind. Hope that the ship of hers would be found. That the eye made it into the atmosphere alright. Hope that her crew members had survived the impact after ordering them into stasis. The silence was still here, but it was peaceful now. The stars offered their company to her, twinkling like the purest of crystals to her. Vaguely, a smile came to her fading existence. There, in the brief stasis procedure, she began to feel the planet's pull, dragging her down. The black of space and white of stars faded to color. Yellow. Orange. Red. White. Blue. Violet. It didn't hurt, no, not in the least. Sound and pain were gone from her, and sight would be too with her conscious. The colors faded as she continued to fall to her destination, wherever it was to be-_

.

Gloria woke up the next morning with her right arm stuck to her sheets, thick with dried blood. Painfully, she went to work peeling the sheets off of her skin, knowing that she would have to hurry to try and salvage the sheets. It took her a moment to realize what was wrong with her room and gasped in horror. The walls. The walls were scrawled with the same six symbols over and over again. Even the ceiling was scrawled with it. The two notebooks she had purchased had the papers ripped out of the spine lay scattered on the floor, filled as well.

"What's happening to me?" She murmured, getting out of bed and walking over scattered pencils and pens that were on the carpeted floor. Hyperaware, she heard the door start to open that announced her aunt's arrival. Flying over debris and crayons, she slammed it shut. "Hey!," Aunt Katherine shouted, "just what the hell was that Gloria?" Gloria suddenly felt sick. "Um," she stammered to try and think of a lie, "sorry, I'm naked right now." The door opened a crack and they made eye contact.

"Gloria, you're wearing a shirt-"

"I have no pants on." She inserted, trying to get her to go away.

"Gloria." Her aunt warned.

"Aunt Katherine." She pleaded.

"Move away from this door or I will break it down in five seconds." Gloria looked down and conceded. Her aunt barged in, but stopped short when she saw the walls. Her aunt was gaping as she looked around, head turning to see each wall on her own terms. Gloria kept her head down, trying to avoid seeing her aunt's expression. "Well," her aunt stiffened, stranding straight and turned to Gloria. "You've given me the right excuse to finally re-paint the walls of the this room. It was getting a bit stuffy." She walked over the curtains and pulled them back to let the sunlight in, symbols were scrawled on the glass as well. "Look, the sun is out today." Musing over her observation, her eyes turned back to her niece. "Well, I don't know about you, but I have a rather busy day ahead of me. I'll let you work on your own errands." She walked up to her niece and put her hands on her shoulders. "Maybe there is someone you need to call someone." She gave her a knowing look and walked out and down the hall.

Gloria ran to the bathroom and ran her arm under the water, flinching at her exposed nerves hit warm water and soap. Only when the blood was washed away did she see that she had carved the symbols into her forearm.

* * *

><p>Ta-dah! Another chapter as promised. I hope this gives you guys enough of a cliffhanger to try and make you wanting more chapters! As I said before, I'll most likely be off of the Internet for the next week, so there won't be any more updates until the following weekend. BUT I WILL WRITE YES TO KEEP THIS GOING.<p>

Now, if you excuse me, I need to pack. R & R!

-Mika


	12. Shaken, Not Stirred

**FUN AUTHOR FACT #2:** I currently have eleven Microsoft Word pages full of rejected story chapters, chapter snippets, character back-stories, plot lines, questions asked to myself about characters (with my answers), raw crack cocaine, and a random chapter that may be thrown in after the story that involves Chromia and the Mongolian Desert. On the other hand, I have a little over twenty-nine pages already submitted (before final editing that it). This leaves me with twenty-four pages in the document that has the raw material of the story but has yet to be published/hasn't been fleshed out completely. You can take four more pages away from the final number due to these pages being published. Fun fun!

-...

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Chapter Nine: Shaken, Not Stirred

-...

**'Find me,' he would whisper, 'not to save me, but to save them.'**

* * *

><p>For the second morning in a row, Gloria found herself throwing up right after bandaging her arm as best as she could. Her mind didn't feel like it was working anymore beyond involuntary actions between the headaches and bouts of light-headedness. Somehow showering and dressing herself, she stuffed things into her newly dubbed 'evidence bag' between illness: papers from her journals, pencils and pens used, and a camera with photographs of the walls and window of the guest room. Her legs were able to coordinate themselves down the stairs, hands clutching onto anything to keep her from falling head over heels down the stairs. The medications she took to alleviate some of the problems weren't working. This left her with having to deal with them as they came and went. Stumbling into the living room, she sprawled unceremoniously on the large ten-seater. Shivering from the cold that seeped through her clothing, she pulled the blanket from the couch back and wrapped around her to try and get comfortable. Maybe if she stayed still long enough her symptoms would subside long enough to try and sprint to the garage. <em>If this is what dying feels like, <em>she bleakly pondered_, then I just want to get this over with._

…..

"How long have you been like this?"

Eyes open, she saw she wasn't alone. A man in his mid twenties stood before her, arms behind his back at a casual attention. The formal dinner suit he wore was more suited for a cocktail party than the living room or her sick presence. In a fluid motion, she flipped over the back of the couch, feet thudding on the floor to create distance between her and the man. Her blanket fell to the ground.

"Who are you?" She sputtered, circling around the couch when he began to move around the couch towards her. "You know," his matter-of-fact tone automatically irritated her; "you can worry others if you don't show your face for some time. Especially in the condition you're in. Someone might think you've died."

"Why would you care?" Her phone was too far away to call the police. So was the house phone. The best thing to do was to back up towards the fireplace while he continued maneuvering around the couch to get to her. She just had to reach the nearest weapon to use against him before he figured out her intention…

"Unfortunately, I can't say much. Ideally, I shouldn't have had a need to show my face in front of you. Even as I speak, I'm going against several cardinal rules that the organization I work for."

"Such as?" She asked, finally around the couch. Her feet slowly began to backstep, keeping an eye on him at all times.

"For one, I normally would have needed an approval before I could have been allowed inside. I suppose I'll have to apologetic when I get back." The stranger was now close enough for her plan to go into action. "I'll make you sorry!" Her hands wrapped around the fireplace poker beside her, swinging it at his chest. He flinched, the rod passing cleanly through like he was made of fog. A moment of bewildered silence passed between the two of them.

"What was that for?" He angrily protested, brushing his arm before approaching her aggressively. Keeping the weapon extended towards him, she maneuvered away from him. He was wary of her, not wanting to have to deal with being struck at. She saw his eyes fuming silently at her in annoyance. She looked like she had seen a ghost.

"What WAS that?" Gloria demanded, waving the weapon in front of her to make him stop his advance briefly.

"You swung that- thing- at me!" He sounded disgusted, offended at her actions.

"If you get out of my house then I won't go for your head next time you intruder, illusion thing!" He resumed his approach, making her dart away towards the end of the living room and nearly into the kitchen.

"Well, you let me into your house to begin with. That makes me less of an intruder a more of a guest." He coolly observed, anger unexpectedly gone. The man/illusion/supposed-guest-no-long-intruder examined his suit for anything ruffled while the statement took its time to sink into her head.

"What?" Aggravation flickered across his face momentarily at her question, but returned to its calm and undisturbed features. "I'll jog your memory shortly, but first-" his hand darted forwards and pulled the poker out of her grasp. To her amazement, he not only bent the iron poker in half, but also twisted it for good measure before lightly placing it into the nearest trashcan. "Now, isn't that better? And you don't have to keep darting away from me; I'm not going to hurt you. Besides, I'm not interested in… someone with your features." A look flickered across her face, but he couldn't decide what it was before she retreated fully into the kitchen. Had he insulted her? He had to wonder. Humans were much more expressive than what he was used to dealing with. Following her footsteps, he made his way into the kitchen where she stood stiffly, arms crossed over her chest (and by the knives too, he noted). Casually glancing around the rather large space, he began to take note what was around him. How does one make small talk with a human girl anyway that didn't involve war and tactics? "You never told me who you are." Gloria icily brought up. His eyes darted to her face, seeing that she expected a response.

"I'll keep it brief to not bore you," his fingers brushed against the marble countertop as he made his way around the open area, "and because most of what I could tell you is under a vow of silence. The most I can say at this point in time is that I was assigned to look after you once you had stepped off base for an indefinite period of time. I was informed to show myself only when necessary. For example, when your life is in danger." He stopped to look at a painting that hung above the sink, noting the thick application of oil paints.

"So, is my life in danger?" Voice on edge, eyes expecting another answer.

"Not in the way I expected it to be. You're ill, but not with something that a perfectly normal individual would get. But," his pale blue, nearly grey eyes looked right at her, making her shudder, "I think you've already figured that out." Moving down the counter, he occupied himself with studying the patterned tile behind the range. "Did Donovan order you to follow me?" She was surprised to hear him chuckle at the mention of the name. "I answer to a man of a higher caliber than Donovan. He merely suggested that I watch you based on my volunteering for a previous assignment. Only when I got clearance from my commander did I take up this assignment. Honestly, I wasn't too fond to be your guardian at first, but I think it's starting to grow on me." The kitchen filled with the diligent hum of the dishwasher working. His gaze darted back to the corner as he watched Gloria move towards him. "What's your name, or are you under some kind of oath to never reveal it?" He looked away briefly, a list of names in his head. "You may call me Mark for the time being." Calmly watching her pace pace before him, he remembered how she often did that when she was nervous or excited. Which one was it this time?

"So, how exactly are you a guest instead of an intruder? By now any same person should have called the police." Pulling her hand from behind her back, she flipped open her phone and let him watch as she dialed in 911. Her finger hovered over the 'send' button as she looked up at him, expecting an answer. He was mildly impressed with how she had snuck over to her purse to reach her cell phone by the time he had walked into the kitchen. There were two directions he could feed into this scenario but decided to play it safe. Best to let her think she had the upper hand for the moment. Appearing disinterested, he moved around her to continue his scrutiny over the kitchen by looking at the clear glass cabinet doors where the glasses were held before throwing out his bait to her. "For starters, I could get you back to base to talk to Donovan. I know you were planning on heading over there before I let myself in. Do you really think that you'll get an audience with him so easily?" She saw his point. "You need me right now, more than you realize or want to admit." Their eyes met again, their interests conflicting.

"And why should I even trust you?" She asked, finger lightly brushing the 'send' button. She wasn't going to let herself be pushed around by a nice suit and pretty eyes. "You first break into my aunt's house and have been creeping around for God knows how long. Then you suddenly dematerialize or something so that the poker goes straight through you. Next thing you do is bend it in half and twist it like it's warm taffy and throw it away in the garbage. Either I'm experiencing a very strange hallucination from whatever is making me sick or I should stop asking questions." Mark stopped and stood beside her for some time in silence, the clock on the wall diligently ticking the seconds away from their lives.

"I do think you did me an injustice in the living room," finally cutting the silence with a stern voice, but not to scold her, "I've been nice enough to let you drive me around town, patient enough to listen to your stories and discussions you've held. To be honest, I wasn't too happy that you messed under my hood and then took me to that boy of yours to screw with my perfectly engineered system." The dishwasher stopped to leave them in total silence. "I don't think you're insane either." Mark examined the watch on his left wrist briefly, suddenly uninterested in his own discussion. Glancing over to Gloria, he noted to note she had connected the dots based on the confused, utterly terrified expression that was plain on her face and in her eyes.

"You're-? No, that's a joke, right?" She firmly stated, shaking her head. "Ha-ha, right?" Mark's features seemed to solidify her crazy idea. And a deep-seated fear she never wanted to face. "Prove it to me." Not even bothering with shoes and socks, she went into the garage, hand waving him to follow. Making his way into the garage after her, he leaned against the doorframe while watching her make her way around the Stingray. He could tell she was looking for something.

"I don't see any wires." Her hands ran over the hood and made their way to the trunk, feeling for something. Anything

"Nope." He chimed in, putting his hands inside the pockets of his pants. It was hard not to grin at her scramble to find anything that could disprove her idea.

"There isn't someone hiding inside, either." She tapped a finger against her lips, thinking. Inside, her mind felt like a record threatening to skip.

"Correct again." Checking his watch once more, he realized they didn't have much time to sit around leisurely like this. "And I think I would know if there were any remote controls…"

"Three exceptional observations, my dear. Now what do you want me to do?" His tone was bored with an edge of impatience.

"Turn on the engine and honk the horn or something." Gloria commanded, looking at him. He curtly responded, not enjoying being commanded by a small human girl.

"Done." The car came to life, engine violently announcing itself to them. The horn honked twice rapidly to placate her. Raising an eyebrow, he saw her standing still in shock while the car rolled back to almost touch the large door out.

"What else do you want me do? Run myself into your aunt's kitchen? Personally, I don't like the prospect of denting myself on piping and house framing." Once more, his eyes darted to his wristwatch (maybe that was his nervous habit? He would have to ask someone later what exactly constituted a nervous habit) and stepped down the stairs to stand beside Gloria. "Now, would you like me to drive to the base while Donovan is still there or would you prefer to have this day off finish your panic attack?" Ignoring the rather rude tone of voice, Gloria realized that she needed to get her priorities straightened for the day before she fell ill again. She had to stuff the emotions that had just been throw out of their lairs back inside. "Your nose is bleeding. The left." Focusing, the familiar sensation of a runny nose confirmed his observation. "I'll be back." Retreating back inside, she dealt with the third bloody nose of the day while she got her evidence bag. He was in the driver's seat when she stepped back out, closing the door behind her. Hitting the button, the garage door silently opened. The sky was overcast as the weatherman had predicted. She got in the passenger seat and got herself adjusted, seeing that he was looking at his watch again. He seemed irritated once more as he spoke.

"Best for you to try and relax. I may be going over the speed limit since we're running a bit late."

* * *

><p>Done! Let me flail a bit and say that I had a great vacation. Well, ignoring how we couldn't go to the beach to swim that I normally do because of the jellyfish breeding season in South Carolina. Just ask my foot that swelled like it had been stung by an angry pack of bees when one got its tentacles wrapped around my foot and ankle. Morgan was right when she told me that that was the reason we stay inside with our computers. But I'm so glad to be back and see your smiling… visitorhits?

Please Rate and Review! I love hearing from you guys!


	13. Thrown at the Feet

Shout out to Teddy-wabbitz, you're so awesome! And I'm sorry that I lied saying that I would publish this chapter yesterday, but my horsie got sick. D: But look! I brought back a dead Autobot to appease you! And a long chapter! *sprinkles confetti everywhere*

But give it up for chapter ten! Time to partay!

_De-Brief:_

_GY:_ A GY, a gray, is the SI unit used to measure the amount of ionizing radiation that is absorbed.

**-…**

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Chapter Ten: Thrown at the Feet

**-…**

**"I'll fine them," I would promise him, "and I'll save them all."**

* * *

><p>Putting it lightly, the drive to the Department of Human Health and Services could have gone better. Both of her nostrils were bleeding so severely that the tissues she brought with her weren't enough, forcing her to keep her black sweatshirt sleeve to try ad stop it. Mark wasn't helping by his screeching to not get the blood over the inside of the car. Her body didn't like her moving either, headache and nausea coming back with a vengeance. Then came the threats of him throwing her out of the car if she threw up. Quickly, she was reduced to a curled up, unhappy, back-talking girl who wanted to punch something. In her condition, she paid no heed to how he was driving or where he was going even. What she needed to worry about was trying to keep her nausea and trying to stop her double nosebleed (she couldn't tell if it was stopping). The car abruptly stopped, meaning her trip through hell was over. Mark got out, slamming the door shut before striding over to her side and abruptly opening the door. "Get out." He ordered, voice thin.<p>

"You don't have to tell me twice." She growled back, ripping her seatbelt off and stumbled out, figuring Mark would keep chastising her. It was amusing to to let him chew her out and then become even more aggravated when she didn't respond. They steadily began to walk, Gloria to the left and Mark to the right, across an open area with gravel laid down. Small brown grasses jutted up between gravel as a way to defy the industry that they had submerged themselves into. The stiff breeze that briskly moved the grey clouds overhead brushed against them. The cold was helping settle Gloria's stomach, allowing her to try and collect herself. They kept parallel to a large building on their right. Mark tugged on his bow tie to let it come undone, suddenly on edge. For a moment she thought his figure flickered briefly, but she thought it was because she was sick. Human compassion made her want to see if her was alright, but something gnawed in her stomach that said it was best to let him be. They were nearly the end of the building and he became more restless. His longer legs carried him farther and suddenly turned the corner of the building. "Hey!" She shouted, sleeve muffling her voice. Angrily, she went up to an uncoordinated run to make the corner and found herself alone. Seeing that the end of the building was open, she figured that he could have gone inside without her. How ungrateful. The sound of a rather loud conversation floated out from the open doors and into the open area of land. Taking a new patch of sweatshirt sleeve under her nose, she briskly walked inside what was actually a hanger.

"Sideswipe, you know you weren't given permission to bring the human back to base." The sentence trailed off when he saw her. It honestly took a moment for Gloria to realize what was in front of her. A giant black mechanical robot was in the hanger, talking to Mark. A giant black robot. A robot. Eyes glued themselves to the giant mech, refusing to look away. Her left leg felt pinned under debris and freshly broken, her back tensed as if flinching from the burning metal of a car behind her. She covered her right eye protectively, shying away as her body remembered what had happened to it the last time she had seen one. Memories flung themselves upwards to bring them back into light- and detail. She knew she wasn't in Chicago, but how come she could smell burnt human flesh and wanted to choke against the smoke? Her mind locked up, primitive instinct fighting its way to the top and telling her to run. This shouldn't be happening. It _couldn't_ be happening. Not again. Hadn't she gone though enough of hell as punishment? It took a step towards her, saying something that she didn't register before blacking out.

…..

"Well, you've sure got yourself a keeper, Sideswipe." Ironhide tried to inject some humor into the awkward situation.

"Something like that." He mumbled, his holoform rubbed his temples in mild frustration at himself for not expecting that kind of reaction. The soldiers who had been previously checking Ironhide's systems were now with Gloria to make sure she was okay.

"I hope whatever reason you brought her is good enough to stand up to _his_ inspection." He motioned to the right with his massive head and transforming into his altmode just as footsteps loudly announced the presence of the said man.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Donovan inquired, voice dangerous as he approached Sideswipe's holoform, looking at the girl on the ground. "What's she doing here? And why is she on the floor of my hanger?"

"I brought her here." Sideswipe's holoform didn't elaborate. The one thing he didn't like about this 'bot was how he always acted like he was better than him. Even his holoform oozed that same attitude.

"And why, might I ask, did you decide to bring here here?" He probed, seeing that Gloria was coming back from unconsciousness just as one of the base's nurses came over to check on her condition.

"She's ill." Again with the curt, defiant response. Another thing Donovan hated were responses that didn't give him answers to his questions.

"It seems like you don't know humans that well, Autobot. They get ill often and turn out fine. You better take her back home and keep on your babysitting duties before-" The holoform cut him off.

"She thinks it's because of the eye. And I've never seen a person ill like this before." He ignored the look Donovan gave him.

"And what, might I ask, makes her think that she's ill because of that?" It was amazing just how easily his patience wore away when talking to Sideswipe.

"She said she had a feeling-" Donovan raised a finger to stop him, pushing another button.

"'A feeling'?" Sideswipe nodded. Donovan chuckled. "A feeling? Just what is going through that thick CPU of yours that lets you think that because she has a 'feeling' about something, you can just bring her into a NEST location like it's some kind of health clinic? This is a advanced military branch that finds, hunts, and destroys the threats you've brought to our planet. Not treating some civilian who has a cold."  
>"She's been seeing things." For once, Donovan was silent at backtalk. "What?" He asked. Sideswipe felt triumphant, seeing Donovan was mildly interested.<p>

"Every night since she gave the eye to be studied, she's been dreaming about ships and writing down symbols. Both seem Cybertronian in nature with what she's described to me and what I've been shown. The symbols she's been writing are Autobot glyphs, I can read them."

"What do they say?" Yes Donovan was interested now. He seemed like he might forgive Sideswipe for the lap in security protocols.

"How about we go ask her, she seems like she's up now._ Sir_." He added to the end, falling from his holoform's lips like a curse. Donovan tolerated the sass to really get a look at the girl, who was removing her jacket so the nurse could get some vitals on her: he had to admit she had seen better days. Dark bags under the eyes from the lack of sleep didn't pair well her unusual vigilance of what was around her. The bandage over her right forearm hadn't been there when he had last seen her..

"Miss Sullivan," her head turned to look at Donovan, "it seems like you have an appointment with me. Care to join me in my office?"

…..

_Of course, when he said his office it would mean the interrogation room. _Gloria thought bitterly, leaning on the back legs of her chair. The room she was seated in was larger than the pervious one, holding a large metal round table that was welded to the floor. Her tongue ran along the back of her teeth in agitation while she waited for Donovan to arrive. She was appreciative that the medical personnel had treated the wounds on her right forearm. She hadn't been out for too long, just a brief plunge into the water that was the unconscious before leaping back out. She was quietly reeling, unsure whether to deny what she had seen as a strange hallucination (which she wanted to do) or try to accept the possibility of having seen something straight from her nightmares.

The door opened, announcing Donovan's arrival. She saw that he held her medical records in his hands along with several similar files under his arm. Two armed men walked in, flanking him as he sat down while a third man took his position beside her. Donovan casually opened a file in front of him and examined a passage. "It says here under psychiatric conditions that you suffer from PTSD and depression." His eyes looked at her briefly to note the discomfort on her face. He pulled out a thinner chart and opened, flicking several pages down and read out loud. "When I look at the psychiatrist explanations for why you take depression medications and the origins of your PTSD, I see that he has clearly explained that 'depression stems from PTSD. ASR upgraded to PTSD due to symptoms persisting over a month as of 6-23. The following have been recurring symptoms to confirm diagnosis'." He stopped reading, looking at her. "Funny thing is, nothing's in the charts about writing symbols on papers or walls. Your brother, parents, and grandparents never experienced that either." Her face blanched at what he said.  
>"Where did you hear that?" Her voice was small.<br>"That doesn't matter, what apparently matters is what you have in that bag of yours. I'll listen." Closing her chart, he watched as she pulled the bag into her lap and pulled out a notebook and looseleaf. "The remains of the notebooks I had." She slid them across the table, watching him flip over the tattered and torn out with an unreadable expression. "I also have a camera with photos of the walls in my room that I wrote on." She added as she slid the camera across next, watching him as he went through the library. Finally putting the camera down on the table, he looked at her again with unexpected curiosity. "So what is the point of your little show-and-tell with me?" He asked, relatively bored. Swallowing hard, she gathered her resolve to ask the burning question in her heart.

"I want the eye back." It felt like she was asking a brick wall for food.

"I didn't take you as an Indian giver." Donovan calmly observed, leaning forwards in his chair.

"I didn't take myself as someone who would be waking up and finding I spent the whole night scrawling these symbols all over the walls of my aunt's guest bedroom and into my arm." She tone of voice lowered to a dangerous pitch, seeing he wasn't going to budge so easily. He picked through some of the pages of text she had written, unmoved. Her blood silently boiled with how apathetic he seemed at her plight. Tearing the bandage off her arm, she showed him the evidence carved into her right forearm. "And why did you want to show me this?" He asked, unfazed. She slammed her fists onto the table. "Because," she growled, "I want my eye back. Now." She was done asking nicely. The beginnings of hysteria and tears were coming.

"The moment you handed the eye over to the United States Government was the last time you would have it until further notice."

"Listen," her voice faltered, "I haven't been sleeping these past nights between writing on the walls and papers and throwing up. I feel slightly more aware than a zombie right now and I want to sleep. Last night I ended up carving these symbols into my arm. If I fall asleep now, I will do everything in my power to make sure that I tear into your arm so we can having matching scars. Maybe then you'll understand just what kind of hell I am going though. Sir." Her words passed through clenched teeth, her intent revealed. Their gazes locked for a moment, both of them unyielding.

"What do you think the eye will do for you?" He finally asked, entwining his fingers together and put his hands on the table.

"I didn't have these issues when I had the eye. These problems came after the eye was gone. Please, I just want that eye. I don't have to go home, I can stay here. I just need to have it for a moment or two to see if I get better, that's all. I know you've had difficulty with the eye. You can research it while it's in my socket."

"How did you hear about that?" His voice was dark, hairs on the back of her head on end.

"It doesn't matter." She sweetly responded, mimicking him. If she were his child, he probably would have smacked her.

"You're willing to become a guinea pig just to be with the eye?" He asked with a tone of finality.

"Yes." She shot back, exasperated. His eyebrows furrowed briefly in thought. Turning to the man on the right, he nodded. Immediately, the two men protecting Donovan left the room, leaving the third behind. After what seemed like forever, the two men came back in carrying a large silver briefcase between the two of them. Carefully laying it on the table in front of her, they each had a key to open the locks on the opposite sides of the briefcase. A small 'hiss' announced it had been opened. Looking at Donovan as the men returned to his side, he gave a small nod to let her open it. It took everything to not squeal like an excited child when she opened it to find her eye she had dearly missed sitting in a nest of foam staring at her.

...

The vision came back to her right eye faster than Gloria remembered. The only thing she didn't expect was a sudden buffet of images the eye provided her, trying to show her what it had seen and read before calming down. As soon as it ended, she was handed over to yet another soldier who was lead her to the testing area. He led her through a door and into a large room. Computers covered every wall and table that was scattered in the room. Technicians attended the computers and other systems while a small group of medical professionals were prepping a bed for her arrival. Nervous, her eye began to dart around the room, gathering information for her and reading it out in the symbols she couldn't read. She was motioned to stand by some stacked up crates off to the side while they were finishing last-minute details. Suddenly she felt that something wasn't quite right. Observing the mood, no one else seemed bothered.

Moments later, a sharp, almost painful sound like a chainsaw against concrete ripped through the air, making her cover her ears to protect them. The computers went down when the noise stopped, showing a static screen on all monitors. Groans erupted from the IT personnel at the monitors when they say the screens. Eyes darted around, noting that no one else seemed to have heard the sound. Whatever it was. Looking down at her hands, a peculiar sensation began to register at the tips of the fingers: it felt like she had left them in a bucket of ice water for too long. Her toes too were starting to feel that way. She flexed them a few times, trying to ignore the sensation until a sudden spasm of chest pain sent her tumbling into the stack of crates beside her with as much grace as the description sounded. Her nails dug into her clothing and her skin, trying to get at her heart as she tried to get a grip on what was happening. The soldier noticed her panicked face and approached her, asking if she was all right. Sweat beaded on her forehead. It was taking a lot of effort to try and breath normally. "I don't know," she managed to wheeze, heart now pounding wildly against her fist. Her eyes met his, fearful. His response was drowned out as her pulse began to pound loudly in her ears; it felt like it was going to rip out of her chest. Was he shouting something? She couldn't hear over her heart's frantic breathing. Wheezing, she couldn't catch her breath while her heart raced ahead. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.

She collapsed to the ground, feeling her head crack against something. She tried to take a breath but to her horror she discovered she couldn't breath. White coats surrounded her, darting around like dragonflies. Someone grabbed her wrist and felt for a vein. Their lips moved like they were trying to talk to her, but nothing reached her ears. Despite the fear that tore at her insides, she closed her eyes. Vaguely aware of her body, there was a small, numb sensation of pressure on her chest. In the darkness she was floating in, she saw a soft, bright light off in the distance. It made her feel… safe. Warm. Welcome.

She decided to follow it, curiosity getting the better of her.

…..

"She doesn't have a pulse! I need an AED!" Chest compressions were immediately administered, cartilage cracking against the force of his hands as he counted in his head. He gave her one breath before going back to compressions to count once more. The medical professionals working on her were given a wide berth to work on her while someone ran to get the AED. They were on automatic at the moment: preparing IV lines for medication, hooking her up to an ECG so they could get a better reading on her heart rate before deciding on a course of action. They watched her heartbeat disintegrate into a confusing transition from flat line to classic arrhythmia. One of the nurses ran back with the AED in hand, quickly putting putting the patches onto the designated locations. The machine began to charge, the high-pitched electrical whine seemed to be the only sound in the room. 'Please stand back' the machine flashed, everyone temporarily leaving her alone. The jolt of electricity passed through her, causing muscles to spasm.

They waited with baited breath, the machine charging for a second jolt. A sharp draw of breath passed between her lips as her eyes shot open, muscles seizing as she came around. Medication was administered while others removed the AED and re-hooked the ECG machine back on her to watch her heart rate. Gloria groaned, disoriented after the shock. She slowly responded to the questions someone asked her as they prepared to move her to a more suitable location. They didn't know what she was talking about when she said she felt a strange blast that hurt her ears and left her fingers and toes numb. Her mind was too fuzzy to fully comprehend the relieved nature of the room around her at her survival. Donovan entered the room and saw the rather chaotic nature of the room. He asked he nearest IT. "What's happening? Why haven't we started?"

"Sir, our systems off-lined shortly before the girl over there had a heart attack. The doctors just now revived her." He motioned to the physicians as they put her on a backboard to transport her. Some of the IT men began to work on the computers now that the girl appeared to be alright.

"You sure as hell better radio Weapons downstairs to tell whoever is down there that they need to be ready to explain to me what they did to cause one of our computer systems and a girl to off-line in forty-five minutes." He already knew who had caused this mess, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to talk to him. He watched with mild disappointment as they disappeared with her through the second door to the MedBay. The testing, much to his chagrin, would have to wait. He slipped across the room to walk beside one of the head physicians, Dr. Walker. "How is she?" The doctor looked at Donovan, not seeming to mind his sudden appearance as he kept his stride to meet up with the new patient.

"Fine for the moment. Pulse shows no signs on any kind of defect based on the ECG readings we're getting. I'll go through her medical rcords, but right now this is baffling me. Shouldn't have happened to her; she's too young to suffer from ventricular fibrillation." Both men went out the door and took a right to head to the medical branch of the base. "I want to keep her on base overnight to watch her progress. I'll go over her records and then take a few heart scans to make sure everything is all right."

"No, we're sending her home." Donovan corrected, passing through a set of automatic doors.

"Sir?" Dr. Walker asked, not quite understanding.

"Let her lay down for a half-hour and then walk her back to the servers. I hate that we had a setback with testing. I'm off to talk to the big guy to let him know of what his soldier did here and then reassigning someone who's better at following my orders."

"We can't just send her on her way, she needs to be watched for twenty-four-" His voice trailed off at the look Donovan gave him.

"You said it yourself, she's too young and healthy for something like this to happen to her. Follow my orders then get a Geiger reading off of her." He held up a hand to stop the expected protest. "The next time I want to hear you speak is when you have the readings from her."

...

No more than ten minutes after giving the order, Dr. Walker ran up to meet Donovan on his way down to the hanger floor. He seemed breathless and rather wet. "I got here as quickly as I could DECON myself, sir. She's got a 3.23 Gy reading. She's going through the second DECON stage right now."

"I need her back down here in twenty minutes." Donovan ordered, cutting out whatever else the physician was going to say.

"We need to keep her here Donovan," he said, "she has ARS."  
>"It's the same as what everyone else has since we're near them-" Donovan tried to wave the assertive doctor's fears away.<br>"No it isn't," Dr. Walker stood his ground this time which surprised even himself, "I spent ten years in Osaka where I treated terminal ARS patients from Hiroshima and Nagasaki. None of the NEST soldiers have ever experienced symptoms, thank God. It's apparent that this is internal for her. She's bled from the nose and gums since we've treated her. Her flu-like symptoms make it and obvious diagnosis with the Gy reading, lucky for her she hasn't digressed into more severe symptoms. If you want your guinea pig alive to work the eye, then we need to keep her here."

"Personally," Donovan began slowly, "I don't care what you give her as long as she walks out of this building and out of my hair for the time being. I expect her here in," he glanced at his watch, "seventeen minutes. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to a meeting that you've made me late for."

...

Fifteen minutes later, much to the disappointment to Dr. Walker, Gloria was presented before Donovan. Appearance wise, she was a little frayed from what had happened to her though she was now quite clean. Unfortunately, the doctor might've had a point to let her go until tomorrow. Every few strides she took while following him she would have to stop and rest momentarily (she had refused a wheelchair). Luckily for her, she hadn't encountered any stairs.

"You'll be taking these for your heart. Just follow the directions on the bottle." Donovan handed her three small bottles to her, a mumbled 'thanks' came from her ask she took them. She examined the labels, frowning. Looked like she was familiar with medications. The silence between them grew uneasy as the speaker system came to life overhead **_'Base, prepare for arrivals. I repeat, base, prepare for arrivals. Weapons you have two. Medical, you have one. MedBay Two, six are coming your way. Arrival time approximately three minutes. Batch One and Three, prepare to meet aircraft for inspection and refueling...' _**The voice droned on its instructions to the soldiers below them.

"You take these pills when you've suffered from radiation poisoning!" She finally remarked. The doctor hadn't told her about the ARS or DECON because she had been on medication to keep her under during the procedure. "I don't know what these other two are, but I'm going to take a wild guess and say they're for the same thing, unless you want me to paint with this 'prussian blue' stuff. Last time I checked, I haven't been exposed to any kind of nuclear disaster." Her anger had bounced back, fully recovered. Donovan stared down at her with mild disgust.

"You should watch your tongue girl. I would be grateful for the free medical treatment you've just gotten from my base. You will take these medications when you get home. You've put us behind on testing, come on."

"What's the word I'm looking for? No." She snidely commented, staying put. "I will not do anything you say unless I get an explanation as to why I'm being given medications like I'm radioactive! Am I?" Donovan's silence was the answer she didn't want to hear. The base was humming to life below their feet and around them, preparing for whatever was coming. A sharp, cold breeze blew through the hanger as the massive doors were opening.

"Why?" She asked, uncertain if she wanted to even know now.

"There are some things that are best left unanswered at the moment. Unless you want to freeze, I'd suggest you follow me to the new room for testing." He tried to pull her along by her forearm but she shook her head. Donovan's patience was wearing thin with this girl. He didn't like anyone who questioned his explanations and orders.

"I believe that she has the right to know what is happening to her." A third voice entered their conversation. Gloria looked to both sides of her, but realized that the only ones with her were Donovan and the soldier who was protecting Donovan but neither had spoken. Where'd the voice come from?

* * *

><p><em>Other Things to Note:<em>

_PTSD:_ Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder; no need to explain.

_ASR: _Acute Stress Reaction; Same as PTSD, but the key thing missing is the duration of the symptoms. Acute Stress Reaction evolves into PTSD if it lasts for more than 30 days.

_ARS:_ Acute Radiation Syndrome; better known as radiation poisoning. Flu-like symptoms until you start profusely bleeding from the mouth, nose, and gums and throwing up blood too. Symptoms get worse and I have no motivation to explain further.

If my math's right, you would need to have to take almost 231 abdominal x-rays to have the same Gy readings as Gloria. Or a little over 40 abdominal CT scans. Or nearly 13 pelvic CT scans. Or almost 11 selective pelvis/abdominal CT scans. Pick your poison (but I wouldn't suggest it unless you need very aggressive diagnostics to figure out what's wrong with you).

Rate and Review please! It's my fuel!


	14. The Terminal Golden Goose

So someone from the Russian Federation read three chapters of this story. I got really excited when I saw that but at the same time I'm like "COME BACK!" because Russia is a big thing in later chapters (and yes, that was a spoiler). I think I hint at plot things when I respond to reviews too.

And I felt like I was pulling teeth the entire time I was writing this, that's why it took me so long to finish writing/upload. Hope you all enjoy this!

**-…**

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Chapter Eleven: The Terminal Golden Goose

**-…**

**Why is it so easy to promise the impossible?**

* * *

><p>Donovan kept his cool at the new voice, but he seemed a bit pale at their arrival (wherever he was). He tugged on the bottom of his suit before addressing the voice. "You know as well as I do the AlienAutobot Cooperation Act and the policy of civilian involvement."

"Unfortunately Donovan, I believe that this may be the exception to the law. She may hold relevant information to your plight."

Before anything else could be discussed, there was a low sound of hydraulics from below the catwalk. Gloria walked over to the railing and looked down, seeing a flurry of mechanic pieces building them up. She failed to understand what was happening until the last hiss of hydraulics and metal plating adjusting to its final position allowed her to make eye contact with what was right in front of her. From her right, she could hear Donovan mumbling something.

"My name is Optimus Prime." He introduced himself, looking right at her. "There is no need to be frightened by me, Gloria Sullivan." It was always surprising how such a small species could express their feelings so clearly.

"What are you and what do you want with me?" She asked, voice edging on aggression (not the tone she wanted to express with a huge robot that was still taller than her even on the catwalk). He seemed not to take notice, expression calm, neutral. He blinked.

"I am an autonomous robotic organism, better known as an Autobot. I, and others like myself, hail from a distant planet called Cybertron. A civil war on our home planet left out planet uninhabitable, and through time we have made our way to your planet. The last chance to rebuild our planet had been destroyed nearly eight years ago. We now call Earth our home. I appear before you now because of what you possess."  
>"The eye?" She had to applaud herself for not having a panic attack.<p>

"That is correct. The optic hails from our home world, and though it is made in a similar manner of my own, is remarkably different. It has it's own energon, giving it the power to be aware and move. Not just a small amount, but significant enough for myself to run on. This is unheard of. Upon further examination, we have found that the optic contains several memory chips."

"Why would an eye have a memory chip?" She asked.

"The optic in your possession has been modified as a distress beacon, Autobot in origin."

"If you need the eye to figure out where the Autobot is, then by all means you can keep it for as long as you need."

"That is the problem, Gloria. It has become a distress beacon, intended for either an Autobot or a neutral figure to find it before it would reveal the location of its sender. For safety, whoever sent out the beacon created it so his location would be revealed to only one mech. Somehow, the eye identified you as a neutral figure and decided to reveal the location of the Autobot. You are the only one who knows his whereabouts."

"So do you need me to help you find where the optic came from?" It was strangely hypnotic to see him blink with those windshield wipers.

"I believe that it would be the best for you and my forces." He nodded.

"For me?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Energon, the fuel we run on, was never meant for an organic life form. The optic is storing its energon within your body as a storage tank. If you remove the eye, then the energon with poison your system, but it will kill you even if you keep the optic in you for too long. I'm afraid that finding whoever dispatched the distress beacon is the only way to save your life Gloria."

"Is that why I'm radioactive?" Her words sounded louder than they should, knees feeling a little weak. She was going to die because of this eye?

"Radioactivity could be an indicator that your body is trying to burn off the energon from your system. Your body's attempt to help you is hurting you. Energon is far too potent for non- Cybertronian life to try and run off of."

"Then how do I figure out where the location of the Autobot in distress?" She asked, desperately grabbing at what was now her lifesaver.

"Normally coordinates are sent directly to the Autobot within their navigation system. Since you are human, I don't know how it would come to you. The memory chip is directly connected to the fibers that attach to your optic nerve, allowing you to see with the eye. Perhaps you'll experience visual stimulations of some form."

She thought that a small amount of sympathy had mixed into the giant mech's calm expression. "So I'll be killed by this… thing? No matter what happens?" She said out loud, gently touching her eyelid in disbelief.

"You are the only one who can save the Autobot and yourself, Gloria Sullivan. Help us find him." Optimus Prime proclaimed. She looked up at him and nodded.

"I'll tell you everything I know. After all, it sounds like I have nothing to lose with this." She had no courage to ask another question: what if finding this Autobot didn't save her?

…..

She told everything to the Autobot leader about the eye from the beginning (minus Alexei and her uncle's office). He quietly listened to her, occasionally nodding at what she said. He seemed particularly interested in the symbols she had written down the past two days.

"I left the bag in the interrogation room, but I have my arm. It's the only thing I've been writing. Can you read it?" She pulled the bandage off for the second time that day (should she worry about infection?), showing the wound to the Autobot leader. He narrowed his eyes, carefully regarding the symbols.

"Yes. The symbols you have been seeing and have written are the Autobot language. On your arm it is written the word 'Icarus'. I'm not sure what they would mean though." Her mind immediately flashed to the files in her uncle's office.

"Tunguska." Gloria blurted out, mildly startling them. "I think there might be something in Tunguska. Are you familiar with the impact of 1908? I saw that huge ship," she motioned with her hands, "and it fell out of orbit. From the topography I saw from space, it definitely fell in Russia, I saw Lake Baikal some distance below where it hit. He might be there. Or at least the ship would be there."

"Are you sure?" Donovan finally brought himself into the discussion.

"Yes. My uncle was born in Irkutsk, 45 miles from Lake Baikal. He used to show me on a map of Russia, so I am familiar with its topography." For once, she didn't snap or at one of his probing questions.

"That's a start. I'll get someone get Russia on the line to see what they might be hiding. For now, you will escorted back to your home."

"Just like that? I'm going home? I thought I was going to be tested. Seems rather finicky of you to change your mind." Donovan gave a dismissive motion with his hand.

"You're being cooperative and giving information to us. We'll be keeping the evidence you brought to us, but we'll give back the camera. If you follow me, you have other places to be Miss Sullivan." A little confused at the complete 180 of his original intentions, she figured that she should be glad that she was suddenly heading home but she had one more question to ask before she wanted to leave.

"Optimus." She seemed a bit uncomfortable at what she was going to ask. "I'm glad that you think I can help you, but why are you so determined to find him? The Autobot, I mean." There was silence in the hanger; he gathered the words slowly, soft sigh of air from his air intakes added weight.

"Look around you Gloria. The vehicles you see in this hanger are the last of the Autobots. If we can find another one of our kind, not only does that help ensure our survival, but helps in our fight against our foes, the Decepticons. If there is a chance that we will find another of our kind that could turn the tide in our war, then I am willing to risk my life to save them."

"I see." Her voice was quiet. She said her goodbyes and left with Donovan out of the hanger, seeming a bit stronger than before.

…..

"You can not walk into this base on your own terms Miss Sullivan," Donovan had reverted to his sour personality, "not without severe consequences. Consider yourself fortunate that your willingness to provide information to us is the reason why you're being let go with only a warning. The next time I want to see you is when we contact you on our own time, not you barging in like you're visiting. You have wasted valuable time and government resources." He punched the card into the door, buzzing loudly as it popped open. She followed him, squinting against the outside light as gravel crunched under her feet. Her car was parked before them. "And I hope you realize how lucky you are that we didn't take back the car." She crossed her arms, wind seeping through thin t-shirt that hadn't been cut or soaked in blood. The tone of his voice wasn't helping her mood either.

"You need to keep a record of whatever you experience until we contact you again, is that understood?" She mumbled a 'yes' to his question, seeing there was no place to really argue.

"As before, you will be escorted out."  
>"What about my stuff? And why are you letting me walk off with the eye? I thought you were hell-bent on keeping it out of my hands."<p>

"The eye might help you figure out more about these ships. Besides, we don't want the goose that lays our golden eggs to keel over before we figure out what is happening. And anything of yours is in the car already."

She could have snapped at that comment, but she found herself holding her tongue. Instead, she was more than willing to get in the car and leave. When the military vehicles turned the corner, he went back inside and was greeted by a thin, gangly man with thick glasses that were constantly being pushed up with an ugly tie that was too big for his figure.

"Sneed, tell me something good." Donovan growled, storming through the hall.

"General Morshower is waiting to talk to you in the central room." Donovan snapped his head to glare at Sneed.

"I said good news, not another thing to ruin my day."

"The blood samples have come back from testing, sir. High WBC count, possible indications of illness. It seems that the immune system hasn't been affected by the radiation yet. The majority of the other tests appear normal."

"I could care less, what about the EBL?" Sneed pushed his glasses up, eyes scanning the page. "High, just like Optimus predicted. This goes way above even the 'high' levels that we published for NEST personnel safety regulations."

"What did that medic of his report about the girl?"

"Ratchet? Says that the optic somehow used the scar tissue from the operation as a bridge to connect to organic tissue, but he would need more testing. Scans of the eye were a bit erratic, but he says that it's within acceptable levels for a Transformer. Of course, there's no way to know what it could do to a human. He did raise some concerns with how she reacted when she was hit by Mirage's electro-disrupter..."

"Then she should learn to avoid it when she's brought back into this." They entered the main command area of the NEST base, the heart of operations for this base. Humming with activity, Donovan made his way to the screen where the General was waiting. The aging Chairman sternly looked at Donovan when he entered the video camera's sight. He was as far from happy as Donovan was. "Donovan, do you want to explain just why the hell your base is contacting the Lieutenant-General of the Volga-Ural Military District _without_ asking for clearance from the President, let alone me?"

"We have a lead on just what those Decepticons have been squawking about the past three confrontations." Donovan declared with confidence. The General leaned forward in his chair at the office he was at.

"Really?," he remarked, "tell me more."

* * *

><p>Isn't everyone excited that 'bots finally showed up? I know I am. I just want to get to the first real taste of action in this story!<p>

Wait: did I ever clarify in the story that Sideswipe's altmode isn't the convertible Stingray? I think it would be too cold in D.C. to be driving around in a convertible. So he has a hood again. Bam.


	15. Barber and the Pit

I'm moving into my college dorm in two days! I'm so nervous, but I'm excited at the same time for my first year of college. I want to try and update one more time before I have to leave. This chapter is rather short compared to the other ones, oh well.

**-…**

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Chapter Twelve: Barber and the Pit

**-…**

**Evil, in its most basic form, is whatever threatens the views you hold.**

* * *

><p>"So, let's go over what you've told me so far." Alexei wiped his fingers with a napkin, breaking from his meal. Wrappers and empty hamburger boxes littered the table they sat at in a corner of McDonald's. She would have complained with how much he was eating, but she had promised him that she would treat him for fixing her car. Well, if she could even call it one with what she now knew. "The reason why we're sitting here is so your car can't see us, because it's alive. Not only that, but there are others just like him, but they're good guys working with the government. You met the leader too. But that's not all," he downed the rest of his soda, "you're working with them to try and find these ships that you've been having dreams about. Because that marble you found in Hawaii a few ago turns out to be a piece of alien tech that's now your eye that can show you the way to these chips. You're then sworn to secrecy by the jackass Donovan before he let you go earlier today. So the next logical thing you do is abduct me from my house, take me to McDonald's, and then tell me this whole crazy story from day one?"<p>

"Yeah. That's about it." Gloria's own food was still in its wrapper. She was waiting to see how her friend would react.

"Well, here's what I think." He reached into the third bag of his and pulled out fries. "Either you're remarkably calm when you're high or you currently have the COOLEST life of anyone in the world. Minus the heart stopping and the radioactivity of course."

"Shh! Not so loud! He might hear." Looking out the windows, she made sure that her car hadn't come over to the other side to snoop on where they were.

"Definitely high. What would your family think if they knew about this?" He sarcastically remarked, going after his milkshake. She frowned, kicking his shin. "Not funny. I made you swear secrecy, remember?"

"Don't worry, my lips are sealed. Besides, I doubt anyone would believe this story. I mean: the Internet has evidence of them if you look in the right places, but governments all over the world keep denying they exist to the public. Of course, people like us-" he stabbed a few fries into honey mustard sauce "have been more or less fortunate to see them first hand." He ate in silence, each wrapped in their thoughts.

"Russia, huh?" Alexei mouthed out through a face stuffed with fries. Curiosity in his eyes. "Do you think they'll take you along?"

"I don't know. I'm just a civilian, so probably not. But it would be cool to go."

"Take a few pictures if you do, always wanted to go to my birth country."

"I'm sure they'll let me take pictures." Rolling her eyes, they made contact with the television and stopped when she saw what the news title was. The plastic blonde-haired news anchor looked up from her notes.

_**"We are reporting from the studio right now to keep you updated about the developing story in the United Arab Emirates. Now, as you might have heard, a 6.2 magnitude earthquake struck the city of Dubai at approximately 10:54 EST, 6:54 PM on their time. The government of the UAE is reporting minor damage to buildings and roads, but evacuations are taking place to get people out of buildings and away from downed power lines. There have been no reported deaths, but hundreds have been injured from fallen objects and broken glass from skyscrapers. In Dubai, we have reporter Kenneth Bruggeman with more on this tragedy. Kenneth-"**_ The news anchor nodded. The scene cut to a grainy film of a middle-aged man standing in front of a cream tent. A large red cross had been painted onto the canvas.

_**"Thanks Julie. Now behind me is what is becoming a common site on the outskirts of city of Dubai: a makeshift hospital. Pitched not even an hour ago, doctors and nurses here are already being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of injured people who are fleeing the city seeking shelter and aid of any form. It's a site that few are prepared for.**_" Alexei turned around to see what caught her eye. He watched for a moment before going back to his food. "Looks like they're still reporting on the earthquake. The government keeps insisting no one has been injured, but I personally find that hard to believe. Hey, are you going to even eat your food?" Blinking, her focus was brought back to her friend. "Uh, no. You can have it." She handed over her food to him before looking back up. The film quality looked a bit better as there was an aerial of the city. Smoke was rising from some of the streets.

"_**-civil engineers struggle to reach the main shut-off valve to turn gas lines off. Police are on foot trying to help in evacuating those who are lost and trying to help their loved ones get out of the mess. Fire crews and rescue vehicles can do nothing until glass and debris can be removed from the roads. A spokesman is reported to speak on this incident in seven minutes and what the government will be going to provide care for the large tourist center. Tourists are being encouraged to return to their home country if they are able, but all flights at the Dubai International Airport have been grounded as inspections on fuel equipment and the runway are being conducted. The airport has become a shelter for those who have survived the quake."**_ They began to interview people, but Gloria had lost interest. Something didn't feel right with what was happening in Dubai, but she just couldn't figure out what it was exactly.

"Done." Alexei threw the wrapper into the pile before him. "Get me more food. Another double quarter pounder please. With a large fry."

"How are you even choking this stuff down?" Gloria asked, stuffing the wrappers in the bag, the table looked less like a waiting avalanche of empty containers and wrappers.

"I didn't eat at all today. Plus I'm a growing boy." He patted his stomach before stretching.

"Whatever. I'll get it, but this is the last of my money." She pulled out a ten-dollar bill and waved it at him.

"Wait! Get some burgers off the Dollar Menu then. I'll love you." He grinned at her when she stood up.

"That's because I have money and I'm feeding you."

…..

That night, she visited her mother in the hospital. Her mother seemed more responsive and in a better mood now the subclavian blood clot had been dealt with and was no longer a threat. The doctor on call informed her how her mother would need to stay in the hospital until the blood thinner warfarin was sufficient enough levels to let her head home. At most, he said, would be another two, possibly three days, meaning she would be able to get home Friday or Saturday. This meant Gloria would have to deal with the rest of her college break without her mother. It wasn't the first time she had gone through a college break and finding herself by her mother's bedside at the hospital by herself.

She wished she could scream at her mother for what she was doing to herself. The doctors that kept tabs on her were telling what could happen if she didn't continue the medications when she got home, but Gloria knew she would probably stop taking them after a few weeks and then would have to come back for the same procedure to keep the clot from dislodging and getting into her lungs and heart. It would only take a near-death experience to scare her into keeping on them regularly. She finally left, disgusted and depressed, after her mother began a drug-clouded argument with the on-call physician on how she saw no real need to even be in the hospital.

…..

**DUBAI, UNITED ARAB EMIRATES, 01:03 UTC+04:00**

All was dark in the city of Dubai. The civil engineers had cut the power only two hours when the quake hit the major city, a remarkable feat for the destruction that had been brought about to the power plant. The city was silent except for the distant wailing of rescue equipment that were making their way to help those trapped or injured by the debris. From the gulf, a stiff breeze softly brushed through the maze of skyscrapers above. It was from the gulf that they emerged from the black waters. Managing to avoid being spotted by any humans, they made their way into the city itself. They were racing against the clock: from hacked signals, they were almost ready to try and re-establish communications to the outside world. There were ten in all, figures enveloped in the darkness that the moonless night provided, taller than any man or humanoid machine Earth had ever built. They had a simple target to find: a building that was already programmed into their processors. The building was within sight after a few silent minutes of navigating the streets. Despite their size, they made their way into the building through the smashed glass front. What they were looking for was right before them: cars.

From the interactions between them, there was a strict pecking order that was to be followed. The largest of the group spoke; a low, threatening metallic screech that would have sent human ears on edge. Finished with the banter, he attacked a smaller mech beside him to run his point across to the others. Leaving the weaklign with minor damage, his red eyes examined his forces to see if any form of questioning were on their features. Satisfied, he slowly limped towards one of the cars that he seemed to have an interest in. With a flash of light, he scanned the vehicle. Done, he grabbed the luxury car with one hand and threw it out the window, loudly impacting against the concrete. Following his lead, the others did the same. When finished, some left to dispose of the vehicles permanently. The massive machine watched for some time before finally transforming, becoming the perfect duplicate of the original car that had been their shortly before. As far as he was concerned, the mission was complete.

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><p>All right! So now that I've introduced the antagonists of the story, I will work on the next chapter. Please rate and review because I love hearing from you guys! Thank you if you've added this story to your alerts subscriptions!

P.S.: Kudos to anyone if they can figure out the reference of the chapter title!


	16. To My Sweets

Dear all of my awesome readers/reviewers/anyone reading this,

I didn't know how to inform you guys, so this is how I'm doing it. :D

I'm so sorry that I haven't updated anytime soon! College as a freshman is really busy and I haven't had any free time at all! I just wanted to let all of you know that I will be updating at least once during my winter break starting on December 16th. Don't be afraid to berate me if I don't update! I thrive on your reads and reviews! Wish me luck on finals!

Much love,

Mika.


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